


(are you gonna) stay the night

by femaletodd



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femaletodd/pseuds/femaletodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason made an involuntary noise and pressed his chest to Bruce's as he whispered. "What about you?" He asked with his breath shaken up. "Y-Your mood changes like-like a bi-bipolar teenager."<br/>He could feel the smile against his neck as Bruce murmured, "Such big words,"<br/>Jason smiled back and wrapped his arms around the older man, pulling him into a kiss.<br/>"Just shut up and fuck me harder." He demanded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Find the Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> fanmix for this fic right here:  
> http://8tracks.com/mabulaufeyson/are-you-gonna-stay-the-night  
> Enjoy!

  


The club was humid with its closely packed, invading bodies. Entrapped in a collage of sweat-slicked flesh with neon lights zooming past them, it was obvious that many of them were lost in the thumping of the music and the literal and figurative high.

Jason wasn't among them. He was sitting by the bar, nursing a glass of vodka that he intermittently swirled around his index finger and thumb with a downcast look on his face.

For a few minutes, as he had initially entered the club, he had tried at Roy's enthusiasm and Kori's encouraging smile. Then, the effort to keep up appearances got a little too much for him and he slipped out of there while Kori and Roy were busy eye-fucking each other. They would think that he was just lost in the crowd and would never have to know that he was busy brooding.

Truth was, it had been a while since he had done anything normal. So much that he had lost sight of what normal was like. Everyday, doing these missions gave him an important sense of purpose but it felt like nothing had changed from his own days of nonsensical violence. With friends like Kori and Roy, he didn't spend all his time fuming about the world's many injustices, but when it came to the mission, he was still unnecessarily callous to his target.

That was something his supervisor repeatedly reprimanded him for.

"You are a professional now, Red. Believe it or not, we do expect you to rein in your internal impulses." She told him a few nights ago, her eyes flashing with stern warning.

 _Well,_ he shrugged to himself mentally, _guess a certain level of angst shit is almost required for someone like me._

He was an orphan. Even before that-- before he lost his mother-- his chances of normalcy were bare-thin. They used to live in Crime Alley, a place that was every bit the namesake. His mother used to be a junkie and his father had been doing time in Gotham correction when he had been killed there.

To have both his parents give in to the darkness of Gotham and have such a devastating end kept him from gravitating to that side. Even though he used to be so near it that his clothes felt like they were permanently suffused with the smell of every filthy deed that happened there. Every single day, it was a struggle to refuse invitations from friends on the street, to turn the other way as they went about robbing places and mugging unfortunate souls.

His mother had gotten sick. Maybe he had been able to deny all the calls to come to the darkness because he had someone. When she fell ill, her features sunk into her bones until she was just a thin caricature of the person he knew. There was nothing else but a tired sense of hunger in those eyes and to see that, to see the abyss that stared back at him, how hopeless everything was, he had given in to the temptation of darkness.

Initially, it started small, with his intentions well-meaning. He stole medicine from a clinic every month; his mother needed them and they couldn’t afford it so he had to. He never got caught by the authorities for that, mostly because he knew the woman owning that clinic never called the cops about the missing medicine.

Only once-- _only once_ \--was he foolishly and disgracefully caught in the act by a street-gang member and then, it was a slippery slope from there.

They offered him money and medicine to help his mother while he worked for them.

"It's simple and easy: you just have to lie. That's all." The leader told him as he offered the membership.

He had been skeptical and wary but it had been so easy to accept that he couldn't foresee.

The lying escalated pretty soon to running from an unexpected police-bust and then--

He felt someone bump into him from behind and jolted right out of memory-lane into the present.

Sitting up straighter, he internally shook his head at his overthinking self and turned around to check on his buddies on the dance-floor only to pause when he noticed, from the corner of his eye, a man sitting next to him.

It was peculiar because he hadn’t sensed this man slide in. Jason wasn't hopelessly drunk. He wasn't high either. Yeah, he was probably muddled in his own head there for a while but his guard was up like usual. His senses weren’t exceptionally sharp since he wasn’t on the job, but they weren’t bad enough that this man could just slip by his radar.

Jason’s observational skills were no joke; he learned from the best of the best and he had to go to China to learn the art of opening his extrasensory senses, for fuck’s sake.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He was a trained hit-man. He had sneaked on hundreds of people and torn their throats out without a sound and he knew the subtle nuances of a person’s footsteps on concrete, linoleum or wooden floor no matter how silent they were trying to be. Yet someone- some man who looked from his appearance like a bureaucratic big-shot in his middle-age-- had sneaked up on him.

Jason eyed him from the corner of his eyes and found himself amazed to recognize the facial features of someone very well-known around the world, especially in Gotham.

Bruce Wayne.

_Bruce motherfucking Wayne._

CEO of Wayne Incorporation, Multi-Billionaire; The biggest innovator of this era, Entrepreneur of the new age, Golden Boy, notorious player, edgy philanthropist, fellow Gothamite and an orphan at the age of nine.

Jason had heard many titles that referred to this particular man. And he knew about him not because of any personal interest but because around here, Wayne was a famous commodity. His welfare funds and what-not had helped many children in need, if not a ton. Even Jason, when he had been too little, too out-of-depth to really help himself without stealing or cheating.

An orphan like himself had been given a place at one of Wayne's foster cares when his mother had been found dead by the police, overdosed on whatever it was that she had taken.

 _LSD_ , he remembered clearly but he was trying to forget.

It lasted a few years; the peace, the security, the uneasy friendships. Then, Gotham's darkness invaded and tainted that part of town. It taught him something: no matter how good tried to overcome, it would always give in to evil because evil existed on a deep level, deep in one's nature.

Jason had been thirteen by the time he had decided that evil must be fought at an equal level, with malevolence and without mercy. His 'hits' back then had been rough, brutal and amateurish but still skillful enough for Lady Shiva to recognize his raw talent and take him under her tutelage. At the age of eighteen, a secret-op controlled by a government agency called the Outlaws kidnapped him, interrogated him and then subsequently hired him.

That's how he met Kori and Roy, his fellow associates. Each as deadly as him. Four years had gone by since then and his associates had somehow turned into family for him. He had mellowed out some since those days: when he’d fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. But not a whole lot.

That’s why, even though he was on break and the other man wasn't his assigned target, he assessed for danger, for threatening signals. It was utterly ludicrous (he suspected Roy would call him twisted and crazy for it) but it was how he was built, how he was raised: with a chink on his shoulder and a full-bodied armor swathed around him.

So even as he noted that Bruce Wayne was an exceptionally attractive man, he analyzed the arches and angles of the man’s face for a warning sign.

As his sharp eyes traced over the unusually quiet man's profile, deep blue eyes swiveled to catch his unsubtle perusal. It was fortunate that he was wearing his favorite leather jacket tonight or else Wayne, with his piercing, intense eyes, might just have noticed the slight shudder he suppressed.

Wayne’s eyes didn't have an ordinary gaze like his slouched body language had indicated just a few minutes before. No, they were quite scary eyes, actually. Like a hawk whose razor-edged beak barreled right into him and latched onto his gut, twisting it hot and cold at the same time.

Jason, trying to adopt his casual, cocky nature back into his countenance, smiled and nodded at the man. Wayne barely acknowledged the nod and instead studied Jason like he was looking through a microscopic lens to examine some real interesting bacteria.

Jason suppressed the urge to shudder again and instead, did what he would in any normal situation when an attractive man had his eyes fixated on him like that. He leaned in and watched as Wayne followed his movement with eyes that were cold, careful and inquisitive. Jason had no idea what the man was thinking but he wasn’t going to let this man quiet man’s powerful stare unnerve him anymore.

"Like what you see?" He breathed on Wayne's lips, his eyes narrowing all predatory and seductive.

Wayne raised a brow, not unnerved in the slightest. A twitch near his mouth made Jason’s eyes slide down and the man’s mouth formed a small smirk. “Not at all,"

Something about him-- the enigmatic air that practically reeked from his person, the sharp jacket of a supposedly self entitled businessman covering shoulders that held unexplained strength, the way he spoke with his mouth parting just so and his husky and irresistible voice heating Jason's system like a good smoke-- something about him itched and etched.

A sparkle of primal lust stirred beneath his belly and groin. The surprise of it left him with a large dose of suspicion and a violent urge to pummel the man’s face in. No-one was supposed to mess with his body like that without even doing anything to him. But instead, he smiled benignly.

"Then, forgive me for asking but what's with the staring? If it's not interest on your part, I have to wonder." He interrogated dramatically enough so that it appeared as if he wasn't prying. Even though inside he kicked himself because playing the overly flamboyant gay man was going to bite him in the ass. More than that, he had never mastered the ability to maintain an act for long. His fists were already starting to clench on the table.

He leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone: "It's getting kinda creepy, you know."

Wayne was quiet and Jason studied those eyes with increasing unease. Those weren't normal eyes, too unreadable for a professional like Jason who was trained at reading the body language of his targets. The convicted felons, the corrupt CEO's and the street thugs all had some tell.

Bruce Wayne didn't.

He noticed Wayne's lips tug to the side and when he lifted his eyes from that perusal, smugness was almost pouring off of Wayne. Jason realized that he had been staring a bit too long at the man to be a casual admirer.

"I could say the same but unlike you," Wayne insinuated pointedly. "I have manners.”

Jason felt like his teeth would break with how hard he gritted them behind his obviously fake smile. "My bad, then. Do tell though," he rested his chin on his fist. "Why? Here in this place where hookups happen by the play of one’s eye only, why are you not looking away from me?”

And at this, he couldn’t help the sharpness of his gaze. Couldn’t help giving a steady and even once-over to the man while imagining what it would be like being held in those big--

_Mind out of the gutter, idiot._

"It’s true, I have no sexual or romantic interest in you." Bruce said matter-of-factly and it was like ice-cold water being pulled over his heated head. "But you do interest me."

He blinked and thought about the strangeness of this man, as a whole. He thought about another reason why he was as interesting to Bruce as Bruce was to him. And it clicked in his head, the suspicion augmenting until it formed into an incomplete theory and then he was looking at this attractive man-- he had been reluctantly flirting with-- like he was dangerous.

There was silence for a moment between them and Jason had to turn his head away. The thoughts racing through his head made his fake mask hard to keep up. He may be good at shooting criminals and being disciplined in the art of spirit and body but he was not any good at acting. That was all Roy and Kori. They did the whole flirty couple thing every time there was need of espionage and he just stuck back to do surveillance or back-up.

Unfortunately, he couldn't have his friends act for him at this moment. He didn't know what to do or say now. Should he reveal he was onto Bru-- and what the fuck was this shitty businessman doing being interested in Jason's occupation for?

The sound of Wayne clearing his throat made him turn back. "It's hot in here, isn't it?" Wayne said nonchalantly.

Jason's heart started thudding loud under his chest. What?

Wayne stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go out for some fresh air, wanna join me?"

The hitman looked up in shock and tried to mold his reaction into something that matched the persona he was emulating. "Oh, yeah. Sure." He said lamely.

_That works._

He was really confused but he followed Wayne reluctantly, who he found was going through the back door where it was written on a yellow sign that no-one but personnel were allowed.

"You sure you're supposed to go from here?" Jason asked, glancing at the bartender who was serving customers without noticing them.

"The owner of this bar is a friend of mine."

Right. Jason had forgotten who he was talking to for a minute. If he were Bruce Wayne, he would stroll around wherever the fuck he wanted too. Not that he didn't already. What he didn't have in money, he made up in sheer egoism.

"Baap ka Raaj hai." He mumbled a Hindi phrase he had heard frequently from one of his teachers. He lived in India, where Lady Shiva had dropped him off to after he learned his basic martial arts lessons from Shinomoto sensei in Japan. The old man had shown nothing but contempt to Jason's incessant complaints about the humid climate, the disgusting bathroom conditions and the traffic. He doubted Wayne knew the meaning of it but it felt good to say it when he couldn't be understood.

The man in front of him stopped walking and stood still. Jason paused, staring as Wayne turned his head the slightest bit to the side.

"Did you say something?" He asked in a perplexed tone.

Jason blinked and shook his head, readily offering a smile to strengthen his useless facade. "Nope."

The older man gazed at him in a manner that almost made him want to squirm.

The outside air was ice-cold when they exited the club but welcome in its own way since the older man's presence was enlivening his inner heat to the point of stuffiness.

He looked around, noting that this must be the back alley and crossed his arms.

Bruce noted his unease and gave a small smile. “Are you thinking of changing your mind?”

That made his shoulders rise up defensively and he forced his limbs down with a calm breath in.

“Change my mind about?” He asked as casually as he could but he knew he sounded stiff as a board.

Then, things started getting weird.

Bruce rotated his feet until he was facing Jason and advanced with alarming speech, his eyes flashing, not unlike a predator. Jason flinched and raised his arms, ready to defend himself but stopped when Bruce asked:

“What do you think?” His hoarse voice contained the secret undertone that all lovers were familiar with.

Jason's mischievous side made him quirk his mouth and act dense. “I don’t know. Something about it being hot inside and you needing to cool down, maybe?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes and once again, that hot and cold feeling rushed over again but this time, it stirred hotter.

Jason’s face must have gone through a minute change because Bruce’s eyes dipped down and he stepped closer with his gaze resting on his lips.

_Oh, fuck._

Jason backed into the wall behind him, grounding himself to the here and now with the feeling of brick and cement on his palms. Bruce loomed over him and Jason’s heart sputtered and sped as he tried to grasp a semblance of reason or logic against the dark, seductive lure of the man’s gleaming blue eyes and those delicious, desirable lips.

"Weren't you supposed to not be interested in me?" He asked, breath caught in his throat.

Bruce lifted his hand and rested it next to the young man's head on the wall. Jason didn't blink as the other man leaned in and gave him a smile that was all sharp lines and alluring curves.

Jason ached.

"What can I say? I'm fickle-minded." Bruce said, a cheesy smile with a dark edge to it. Jason suppressed the urge to recoil instinctively. Oh man. This wasn't just any player. Wayne was trying to figure out something about him (or from him, he didn't know which) like a expert at the game.

This was going to be tough to get out of.

Jason put his hands on Bruce's biceps and felt them as best as he could for a few seconds before he pushed at Bruce's chest. "Well, if you're so readily changing minds, I'm entitled to it too. I'm not interested anymore, sorry."

Bruce didn't resist the push and backed a few inches but a peculiar expression remained. There was a moment when Jason wondered if refusing was the right idea when he felt a hand cupping his groin through his jeans.

" _Whoa_ \--" choking on a groan, he raked his nails at Bruce's jacket sleeves and clawed. "What the fuck--"

"You're hard and I didn't even touch you." the tactless millionaire said matter-of-factly, not a hint of mockery in his voice. "Are you sure you're not interested?"

Jason gaped at him for a second before he narrowed his eyes laser-thin.

"Fuck you," He bit out, breath coming fast and heavy under his lungs, feeling equal parts horny, frustrated and angry.

"Language," Low, gravel voice husked over his neck as a big, strong hand kneaded his cock.

"Nngh! You know, your courting etiquette leaves something to be desired." He said breathlessly.

A strained smile lit Bruce's face. "Yes. I think so too."

"Then--" he was about to say ' _fix it and do it right already_ ' but he was shut up by a tongue shoving its way inside his mouth when he opened it to talk.

 _Works_ , his mind squeaked helpfully.

For a few minutes, their lips aggressively fought for dominance as Bruce's tongue roved over his with a growl. They pulled away to take big gulps of air in when--

"You talk too much." He said in a rough voice.

_Was this really a mask?_

Jason couldn't quite make sense of anything.

"Sorry, your highness. But this--” he gestured at himself, sounding pretty cocky for someone whose hand was shaking. “--is a package deal. No talking, no Jason."

A few seconds passed and he wondered at the pause before Bruce said: "So, your name's Jason."

Jason tensed, immediately on the defensive. Shit, he wasn't supposed to reveal his real name to anybody. Well, at least, not his full name, but even a part of his name was like giving a part of himself. It was an uncomfortable feeling and it made him feel anxious.

Throwing off the part of him that was blazing with dread, he pasted a smirk on his face and rested both arms around the man. "And you're Bruce Wayne. So now that we're all formerly acquainted," He pulled Bruce's head down to capture those lovely lips and for a few minutes, he was chaste and reserved, his head still in another place but sooner than he liked, passion overtook him like a tidal wave and he was whimpering when those lips left his.

"Fuck." He muttered, chagrined that he lost his train of thought but aroused enough to not mind it.

"Jason." Bruce called and his smooth voice seared through his ears like a winter chill. Jason felt his heart skip like a galloping horse was inside his chest. As Bruce encased him around the waist, he felt Jason up and down with big, wide hands.

Jason hummed out a pleased noise, as Bruce bit the side of his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin around them until it felt like the upper part of his body was branded.

“Damn.” he groaned out as Bruce held his hips tighter, overcome with a heat that throbbed insistently between his legs, vying for attention.

"Jason.” the man said after pulling away from his neck and grazed his lips across Jason’s forehead. “I want to fuck you."

Jason’s head thudded to the wall behind him and the pain snapped him temporarily out of his lust-hazed revelry.

"Can't do that here," Jason objected brusquely, pushing against the man’s chest to stave him off with every bit of self-control he still retained.

"I know." Bruce smacked desirous kisses upon his face and around his neck and jawline. Still, when Jason remained resistant, he pulled back and asked, perfectly calm and almost amused:

"Want to go somewhere with me?"

Jason stared at the indigo hue of those eyes in the shadowy light and took a bracing breath to stop from losing his objectivity.

"Your car?" He finally got out in a crack-pated voice.

"Parked on the front."

"Lead the way." He gestured before him.

There was a moment when Bruce just studied Jason's every minute feature for a length of time.

"Let's go," Jason, a little uncomfortable with the look in Bruce's eyes, turned to the mouth of the alley and brushed against the man as he made to go.

"Tell your friends you’re leaving first." The older man cautioned from behind.

He stopped walking and glanced behind him to see Bruce pulling out his phone, too preoccupied with texting to notice the dubious staring. There was only one reason why he was willing to go along with this. That was because he didn't think much of sex. Save for always having protection on him when he had intercourse, there was no harm in the entanglement of two bodies.

The knowledge Bruce seemed to have somehow a hold of though-- like the fact that Jason had come with friends even though, he had been alone when they met-- for Bruce to know that, he would have to be watching carefully before he sat by Jason. To know things the way he did, to have one face and then change to something completely different.

But Jason wasn't going to speak about this. Not yet, at least. He took out his phone and texted quickly:

_leaving early. have fun with kori._

He put his phone back in his pocket and raised an expectant brow at Bruce, who was looking at him intently.

To be honest, it was a little flattering. If only it was supposed to be flattering.

He's Bruce Wayne, for gods sake. The Notoriously infamous Playboy of Gotham.

Jason didn’t have a bad feeling about him, as far as instincts went. It helped that nothing shady was going on in his corporation and he would know if something was shady because one of his jobs as a hitman was hitting up corrupt corporate owners and sometimes, even scare them into a confession. Wayne tech was clean, as far as corporations in Gotham went. It was the only clean thing left in this bloody terrible city.

_But this uneasy feeling, what is it?_

Jason didn't look to Bruce, who walked beside him. Instead, he kept his eyes on the streets because for the moment, there was only doubt and suspicion in his eyes.

They got to Bruce's expensive, tasteful vehicle and drove into an isolated part of town, parking it hidden from view. Jason relocated to the back and invited Bruce with a come-hither look.

Bruce didn’t need more prodding and followed along, his eyes still so blue despite the shadows obscuring the view. Breathing shallow, gazing at one another, they both moved simultaneously into each other. One hand went up his back, caressing at the base of his neck with callused fingers.

Hearts raced, breaths hitched.

Bruce held him gently still as that wonderful mouth moved slowly, passionately over his.

_Shit._

He cursed internally, panicked at feeling so much at just a kiss.

The heat was liquid and intense, as it flowed down his stomach and his groin.

He was going crazy for a suspicious as heck guy, Jason reminded himself as he responded to the kiss with ardor. Everything about him stirred up his senses. Urgent hands worked to discard each other’s clothes quickly. Bruce pressed him against the leather seat and bit his bottom lip lightly as he pulled away.

Jason grabbed his head to pull him back but Bruce didn’t budge, just unbuttoned his shirt, took it off and worked on taking his belt out. He knelt there between Jason’s legs, slouching a little because even this spacious, luxurious car was too small for a man as tall and built as him. Jason blinked owlishly in awe as he stared at the impeccable pecs, six-pack abs and flexing biceps presented to him. Fuck, but the man was built. He had to wonder why a businessman like Bruce Wayne would have scars or feel the need to train like crazy to get buns like those but he got side-tracked by the view. The man was drop-dead gorgeous.

Jason lost his breath and the next minute, he was back in the other man’s personal space, kissing him like crazy. He grabbed those shoulders and latched onto that man’s mouth, tasting him, delving deeper, getting really turned on as broad hands slid down his t-shirt (his leather jacket long discarded) until they ended up at the waist-band of his jeans.

“May I?” murmured Bruce and Jason got so mesmerized by those lips, by that deep voice that reached so low and flowed through his wind-pipe to his stomach whisky-smooth.

“ _Yes_.” He gasped and pushed his head back in to devour Bruce’s lips.

Bruce responded in kind but slowly, keeping the kiss from sizzling to higher degrees. Jason groaned in frustration but stopped when he felt those hands slipping under his jeans and wrapping around his rear with a satisfaction that went right down to his toe.

“I want to go all the way.” Bruce murmured, massaging his lower cheeks imperceptibly, all quiet and calm but Jason had a sudden realization that this calm was just the calm before the storm. He imagined what this enigmatic man still covered under his steely skin and blanked out, arching his back to roll his hips against Bruce's hips.

Bruce watched him with half-lidded eyes, keeping his hands right where they were and inquired with an amused tilt of the head and a raise of one eyebrow.

 _Great._ Jason was turning to mush on the spot. If this was the effect the man had on every women or men he met, no wonder there was such a long list of bed partners tagged with his reputation.

Taking a calming breath (for what felt like the nth time tonight) because this was getting overwhelming too fast, he nodded his assent and searched blindly at the discarded clothes for his jeans with one hand. He realized he would have to fully look to find the condom and lube he had stashed in his pocket and turned his eyes reluctantly away from the bewitching man. Once he had the items, he handed them hastily to Bruce and leaned back, spreading his legs and trying to relax himself.

“Okay, I’m going to assume you know how to use those.” He exhaled as he made himself as comfortable as possible on the car seat.

The man just stared a little at the items on his hand and smiled wanly. “I’ve done this only twice with a man before so I apologize in advance if it’s awkward for you.”

Jason snorted. “You’re sweet but believe me, you won’t be my worst.”

There was a question in the furrow of Bruce’s brow and Jason ignored it, leaning in and kissing the almost-frown off his face. The tension on the man’s face eventually relaxed and he reciprocated the kiss in kind with a tenderness that turned the experience welcoming instead of a nearly uncaring frenzy of lust escapade.

Jason didn’t resist the unexpected flow and just moved closer, accessing the tongue with his own, tangling with the man’s skin and sweat. Becoming familiar with the ease and passion that was contained in those hard, strong muscles. Immersing deep into the emotional experience of joining mind and body with a stranger. Jason didn’t have those experiences often. In his case, grinding and fucking in a frenzy of lust was all he had accomplished for the past five years, at least.

Before that, he had one special love for a girl but that had obviously not worked out. Dammit. Now, Jason was drifting off somewhere he didn’t want to so he added pressure to the kiss, got more handsy, more intense.

He pulled away to breathe out: "Lube."

Bruce nodded and collected it from the dashboard. Jason lay back, spreading his legs while the older man situated himself in-between, covering him with his broad-shouldered body.

There was a moment of silent consent and then, they were kissing, tongues roving, chests heaving, fingers pulling.

Their hips moved in an erratic, uncontrolled rhythm. Their harsh breaths molded the space between them, tense and anticipatory with twin, mutual desire. Their hands moved, gripping over lengths of each other's body, exploring and yet wanting still a little more. Bruce tried a finger and crooked it as it easily went in with the lube paving the way.

"I can take it, two more." He hissed out.

Bruce looked at him lying down there and his eyes softened. He rested his lips on top of Jason's forehead and pressed in a second finger. Jason squirmed, one leg coming up to bend, brushing past Bruce's.

Without any urging though, the third one went immediately in afterward and Jason cried out in surprise and delight. A few strokes in and out and then Bruce was pulling out, gripping his dick and shuddering, with his head tilted back and his face flooded with ecstasy.

"Can't wait?" Jason asked breathily, admiring the view.

Bruce situated himself at Jason's entrance and thrust in as a reply, leaving him gasping at the shock and pleasure that wreaked havoc on his nerves.

"Oh god, yes," he rasped out, wriggling underneath to get more of that feeling. "Go faster."

"You know something?" gritted out Bruce as he pulled out and thrust back in. "You really are an impatient, impudent brat."

"Oh my god, so many big words, how are you coherent?" choked out Jason as another thrust slammed into him, attacking him right where he needed it.

"Because I--" Bruce said as he swiveled back in with his machine-gun speed and his hawkish precision. "--am not--" Jason cried out as a well-placed stroke pressed against his prostate. "--a brat!"

The young man twisted his body upward in an effort to get away from the relentless pleasure, but ended up giving in to the frenzy. There was sweat beading his forehead and he felt a flush covering every part of his skin, his heartbeat echoing into his ears as he bucked into the pressure.

"Mm, ugh," Jason made an involuntary noise and pressed his chest to Bruce's as he whispered. "What about you?" He asked with his breath shaken up and as the thrusts drove deeper and harder. He was barely able to croak out: "Y-Your mood changes like-like a bi-bipolar teenager."

He could feel the smile against his neck as Bruce murmured, "Such big words,"

Jason smiled back and wrapped his arms around the older man, pulling him into a kiss. "Just shut up and fuck me harder." He demanded as the kiss ended.

Bruce's eyes glinted with an edge to it and his lips arced higher, into a crooked smile.

"Your wish," He said, his mouth devouring Jason's. He pulled his head away, watching Jason with warm eyes. "My command."

Then, it seemed like caution was thrown to the wind and they were flying at speeds of the highest peak, their movements irregularly paced and Bruce's strength in each stab inside him a godly spark. It felt like Bruce was barely pulling out, their bodies twitching each second as he drove in mercilessly with no sign of stopping.

They reached release simultaneously, shouting in harmony at the eruption from a long, violent build-up. As they rested against each other, recovering from that massive explosion of fuckery, Jason thought that if there was ever a "Best I Ever Had" award to be given, it was to this man.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Hmm?" Bruce questioned without actually questioning, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment before loosening back again. He looked absolutely done in; his chin resting on Jason’s torso and his whole body slack on top of Jason. If the other man was in such a state, Jason shuddered to think what he looked like. He imagined dishevelled and fucked-out just might cover it.

He lay there for a while, thinking about how he had ended up in bed with Bruce Wayne. He was pretty sure he had hated the man’s guts from first sight because of his sharp suit, his smugness, his initial rejection of Jason, his suspicious behavior and his over-entitled ass. Then those electric blue eyes had moved a certain way and he had talked in this voice that just got deep underneath his skin and he was a goner.

He had never let himself go like this before; not at this rate, not with such abandonment of reason, not while he was still largely suspicious of Bruce's not-so-innocent intentions.

Jason froze and pushed at Bruce’s chest, shoving off of him as he sat up with wide, panicked eyes.

“Jay--”

“Uh, I have to go.” He told Bruce without looking him in the eye, gathering his clothes from the car floor and getting them on himself hurriedly despite the congested space. He calculated the amount of time it would take for Bruce to open his mouth and compared it to how long it would take for him to get all his clothes on in time. Then he remembered his converse.

He paused, cursing in his mind.

“Jason, what--”

“Stop,” He told Bruce, finally looking him in the eye. What he saw made him waver on the spot. This wasn’t the man he had met in that club; with hard, intense eyes and confusing, mysterious words. He was all softened up, not only from the outside but the inside too, Jason could feel it.

“Don’t,” He muttered, fitting into his jeans and zipping up in record time. He took his leather jacket and haphazardly wore it over his shirt. "Don't say anything. This was just a one-night stand so..." He swallowed and lifted his chin, his eyes raised to Bruce’s befuddled expression. Then, looking at the man, a thought hit him.

“I have to know though,”

Bruce tilted his head and inquired, “Yes?”

Jason closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Why were you--” He paused for an uncertain moment, eyes opening to take in Bruce’s open look. “Why--” He breathed out an exasperated sigh. “I thought you weren’t interested in me--”

“You’re wrong,” Bruce retorted right away. “I was always interested.”

Jason swung his arms out, annoyed at the interruption.“Not romantically or sexually, you said.”

Bruce’s lips spasmed and he shrugged. “I lie,”

“Yeah, well--” Jason fumed in irritation, “--that doesn’t explain why you’re shady as fuck.”

“Language,” admonished the other man and both of them paused as they awkwardly deliberated over his almost fatherly tone, then he asked: “And how am I ‘shady’ when you were the one pretending to be someone else?”

Jason huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Well, I can pretend all I like if I found someone suspicious and hella stalkery, but you-- you’re fucking Bruce Wayne. What reason do you have for watching me?”

“I was watching you?” Puzzlement marked his face but Jason knew better.

“I _know_ you were watching me,”

Bruce’s bemused face changed and suddenly, he was crowding into Jason’s space. “Yes, I was,” he murmured into Jason’s cheek, arching his face up so that their cheeks were nuzzling together. “because I was _interested in you_.”

Jason felt a shiver pass through him and collected himself, backing away from the other man.

“You’re so full of shit,” He spat out and when Bruce continued to look like he wasn’t going to say anything substantial, the younger man took his shoes from where they were sprawled on the floor and declared: “I’m out.”

He opened the car door and went out, slamming it shut behind him. He walked a few steps on his bare feet and stopped, looking around at the completely isolated area around him.

_Oh yeah, I forgot._

He heard the click of the car door opening and Bruce’s voice came from behind, “At least, let me give you a lift.”

“No thanks, I’m gonna call my friends to come pick me up.” He gritted out, taking out his phone to do just that.

"Pretty sure they’re not in any position to drive,” Bruce commented quietly.

 _Aw, dammit._ Why did this man have to be right? Roy and Kori were probably drunk off of their asses at this point and because of his text to them, he was sure they had forgotten all about him and were busy fucking each other.

He whirled around, opened his mouth to say some scathing remark and stopped at the sight before him. He stopped, glanced about him, and seeing no-one around, he turned back to the rugged and very naked chest presented to him and (he slid his gaze downward) his naked thick, hairy thighs. At least, Bruce was wearing underwear, which didn’t hide much in the way. He could see the outline of his thick girth. Everything about this man was thick. His arms, his chest. _Everything._

Jason forgot how to breathe for a moment. Once he caught himself, a scowl encompassed his whole face.

“Okay, fine,” He gave in, still eyeing Bruce’s assets like they were treasured gold. He lifted his head and gave him a stern glare. "Give me a lift back to the club and then, whatever this was is over. We’re done with it."

Bruce was silent for a few moments, busy roving his eyes over Jason's features with a serious and contemplating look.

"Okay," he agreed amiably.

 


	2. Desire the Enigma

 

"You cannot be serious," stated Jason in irritation.

Kori and Roy exchanged a side-glance and turned to him with twin looks of plea, complete with the lifting of brows in a distressed arch and the pouting of lips. They were starting to sound and act more like those obnoxiously cheesy couples that did everything together, agreed on all things and were in complete sync most of the time. Jason was starting to regret ever getting them together.

"Why?" He demanded when they continued to look like a bunch of puppy dogs, with no sign of stopping their absurd looks of plea.

"Well," Roy began as he glanced at Kori for whatever reason. "The charity gala that we're supposed to be infiltrating is kind-of like an annual, big thing and since we exposed our true faces on camera--"

"--an accident--" Kori chirped out.

"-- security is gonna keep tabs on us so we can't attend as guests."

"How about a disguise?"

Roy grinned cheekily. "A disguise can't hide this," he gestured at his own body with extra emphasis.

Kori rolled her eyes and explained, "We can't take the risk that they might recognize us,"

"Yeah, we've been keeping a whole lotta connections through our multiple disguises for a long time, especially in upper-east Gotham. It's better if we don't let our identities slip out just because you're chicken-shit."

"How bad is the security, anyway?" He asked, ignoring Roy's insult.

"As bad as it gets; automated facial recognition, a pack of guards situated in and out of the ball and a computer expert ready to deter any clever hacking into the security."

“We're fucked, then."

"Well, we wouldn't say that." Kori said as Roy grinned a large, winning smile.

"I'm not some willy nilly hacker," he folded his fingers together and popped out his joints as he stretched. "No wannabe "computer expert" can get through my signature move, you know that."

"And I'll dispose of any guards in our way," Kori finished breezily, eyeing her perfectly manicured nails. She looked up at him with steady green eyes and said, "It's time we become the back-up."

**  
  
**

So here he was, with a suffocating tie and a beautiful woman on his arm, both courtesy of the company. He exited from the limo with the ebony-haired beauty while Roy the Driver (Roy in disguise) took the car to parking. Kori was already there, preparing the setup. The general plan was that they were going to infiltrate from the underground, but that was subject to change as always. They were masters at improvisation and had done this a hundred times, just not with this dynamic.

Jason took a bracing breath in as the woman (her name was Tania) beside him readily smiled at the guards posted by the entrance. They asked for the invite and Tara plucked it out of her purse, handing it to them with a casual grace; as if she belonged there. They looked at it for a moment and then nodded at them to go ahead. Jason caught a glimpse of a security camera situated on the wall of the entrance archway and heard the guard indistinctly talking in his comm-link most likely registering their names to confirm check-in.

_Roy and Kori were right._

They entered a tasteful and clean lobby with its walls elegantly encrusted in gold embroidery on a beige background while maroon-colored furnitures laid out to the side. The ballroom was to their right as the manager of the hotel gestured them in and then, there were finally in the thick of it. They paused at the doorway and observed all sorts of dressed-up big-wigs sitting or walking, drinking wine from gorgeous glasses or murmuring in soft voices to one another about something really boring or just standing there looking extremely pretentious.

"Okay, this is where I'm desperately gonna need your help." He told Tania in a low undertone, leaning into her. She looked at him, amused. "I don't know how to, as Roy put it, 'mingle'."

She let out a high little laugh and turned to him, whispering: "You're on your own, boy." With that said, she grabbed a glass of wine from the waiter passing by and walked across the hall in her high heels and her soft blue gown, looking proud and confident with her head held high. She stopped next to some old ladies standing around in the center of the hall and in the blink of an eye, they were accommodating her into the conversation, laughing and chatting away as if she'd always been there.

He started, befuddled at the sight and felt a spike of nervousness a moment later. Now that his first plan of action didn't pan out, which was to let Tania mingle for them while he followed her and nodded along like a mute puppet, he was going to have to go with the second plan of action. Which he hated on principle and because he was bad at it.

"Great," he grumbled. Now he was supposed to just walk up to any one of these rich ass-hats and act like a smart yet conciliating moron. He could lie, sure, but he was proud to say that he had never lowered himself to make the other person happy. He never could shut up when someone was acting like a douchebag. That was the reason he got into so much trouble with authority in his adolescence.

He may have never gotten arrested but that wasn't the only type of danger he faced as a street kid.

He repressed the urge to recall those terrible times and instead focused on Tania, who patted a middle-aged woman's arm in a companionable way and laughed.

He glared and found himself muttering aloud, "How the hell did she do that?"

"It's an art," answered a voice from behind in a lilting tone. It was male and sounded unusually familiar for some reason. "You can't just pretend to be invested in a story unless there's a part of you that is interested--" Jason turned around just enough to see who it was talking to him and saw to his utter astonishment that it was Bruce fucking Wayne. He stared agape as the man continued to talk as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "--so what you do is you believe the lie with your whole soul and body until it's the only truth you know at that moment and you embody it in everything you say or do."

Jason's eyes flitted from Bruce's right hand in the pocket of his trousers, his metal-silver watch glinting out of his indigo suit's sleeve to his broad shoulders that were postured in such a way that you could feel the casualness he exuded to his hair that were gelled back to give a rakish, suave look. The man may have the same face but everything about him contradicted what Jason had seen of him in the back alley of that nightclub, all those weeks ago.

"You basically just described acting," He deadpanned, finally having processed Bruce's presence.

Of course, he was here. He was a billionaire. This is what they did for a living; pretending to cozy up with other billionaires so they could solidify connections and get more money. Not that they needed it, the greedy bastards.

Bruce shrugged, inclining his head just so that it almost appeared that he was agreeing with Jason and then, his eyes slid toward Jason’s face in a really intent way. In a way that said, ‘Hello, stranger. I recognize you and what in the world are you doing here?’

“Hello, Jason.” the older man finally chose to say. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Jason raised a brow, amused that he had been able to guess almost exactly what this demented, strange man was going to say.

“Bruce,”

A twitch of lips appeared on the other man’s face and he looked a little pleased that Jason remembered his name. Which was weird because everyone fucking knew this guy’s name.

“Dare I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Well, I could ask the same, but I think the more important question is: how do you know so much about acting?”

“I’ve dabbled a bit into it,” He grabbed the top of his ear, an extremely human tell. What he knew about Bruce went against such an obvious flaw. “Done a bit of theatre in high school.”

“You’re pretty good at it considering you’ve only ‘dabbled’,”

“You think so?” Bruce asked, looking flattered and acting deliberately obtuse.

Jason eyed him skeptically, raising a brow.

"So who are you playing tonight?” He inquired.

Bruce gave him a dumb, lost look. "I don't follow."

"Jesus," muttered Jason to himself and crossed his arms, giving him a prying, no-nonsense look."I mean, what role are you playing in this ballroom?"

“Myself,” answered the man promptly with a perplexed look.

Jason shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he exhaled, looking away onto the ballroom’s other occupants again.

“Is that your date?” pointed out Bruce, changing the topic again. Jason, knowing his line of questioning wouldn't be responded to truthfully, followed his eyes to where Tania was standing, looking breathlessly gorgeous and incredibly flirty with whomever she was talking to.

“Yeah,” Jason tugged at his collar as he replied. “She’s, you know--” he hesitated for a millisecond, his throat clogging up with lies that he, for some reason, couldn’t spit out in that moment. So he settled for:  “--a casual thing. More of a friend, really.”

Bruce stared at him closely, appearing thoughtful.

“So coming here, was it her idea or yours?” He asked eventually.

Jason blinked and turned, facing the ballroom with his arms crossed. “Hers, obviously.”

Bruce turned as well, resting a light hand on Jason’s back and exerting a certain pressure so Jason moved when he moved. “I see,” He said and Jason glanced at the arm around him in bemusement. Then he noticed people in the entrance trying to go around them as they were essentially blocking it.

He shrugged Bruce off of him and muttered churlishly, “I can walk on my own.”

The older man stared after him as he ambled away and then, followed him at a slower pace.

Jason noticed his presence over his shoulder and inquired, “Aren’t you supposed to go around and mingle with the other guests now?”

“I suppose I do,” replied Bruce, observing his every tick out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t feel the need for it right now, though.”

Jason heaved in a sigh and looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Trust me, it’s not gonna get any more interesting if you were to hang out with me.”

“I seriously doubt that, Jason.”

The younger man twitched and felt heat surface on his cheeks. There was a cadence of warmth and softness in his voice that was ultimately new, almost but not quite like the voice he had taken up in the last few minutes of their last meeting. It was…

He pushed the thought away and looked up into intent blue eyes.

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and was about to turn to walk when Bruce grabbed his wrist.

He stopped, heart thudding hard against his chest. Bruce stepped closer to him, his eyes filled with some imminent thought and there was a moment of electric tension between them as Jason leaned in subconsciously.

Bruce opened his mouth to say: “I--” only to be interrupted by someone calling his name.

They both jolted apart and stared at a white-haired old man step toward them.

“I was looking all over you,” said the new man and offered Bruce a firm handshake. “How are you?”

“I’m good as can be expected." Bruce's body language as well as his voice changed seamlessly, shifting to something more firm, professional and decidedly male. "I heard you were bogged down by a Chinese contract last time I called.”

“Oh, so relieved it’s over. It took about all of me to finish up the project, those Chinese are so damn demanding, but I did. Now, look at this place, isn’t it magnificent?”

“It’s lovely, Travis.”

“Yes, I know. My lovely assistant and our party planner did a great job, if I do say myself.”

“How is Meg?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know about my wife. She’s a complete nag, still and I tell you, Bruce, don't tell anyone but--” and this time, the old man finally noticed Jason and there was a twinkle of something as he paused and eyed him.

“Oh, I completely forgot. Travis, this is--”

“Ryan,” intercepted Jason smoothly. “Schwartz. Pleasure to meet you.”

He didn’t look to see how Bruce felt about the lying but the billionaire was his own version of ‘liar liar pants on fire’ so he didn’t care either way.

“Oh yes, Tania’s plus one.” said the man called Travis. If Jason’s intuition was correct, this was the host of the event. The very same host who had ordered extra security on the premise, which meant not only that he was onto them but also, that he had a dirty secret he couldn’t let anyone know about. “She said you were really interested in the charity business. She never mentioned, what do you do exactly?”

“I’m a lawyer actually. Sometimes, I do pro-bono and non-profit work. She said you guys were making an effort to reach Egyptian and other impoverished Middle-Eastern kid’s education too and I got intrigued. Mostly because of my mother’s own work in Iran as a nurse. She had seen some of the bad conditions they lived under and she always talked to me about how we should focus our efforts to them as well.” the old man nodded along understandably and Jason smiled, glancing at Bruce whose eyes were simply fixed upon Jason.

“Have you tried to get in touch with the officials from Greece about donation to the Syrian refugees?” He asked abruptly, to take himself out of Bruce’s spell as well as corner this Travis guy with a tough question.

It was in Jason's nature to be the one on top; whether it was being in charge of a conversation or a courtship. He liked having the control. That was why being with Bruce that night was so different from normal. Bruce had taken the wind out of him; every single moment, something about the man would take him completely by surprise and trying to figure him out had been like sticking his head in a dark, dank hole.

It had been startling.

“Well,” Travis looked really surprised about the topic being brought up and shook his head. “I hadn’t thought about that. This charity event is actually only to endorse education in impoverished countries.”

“I know, I just feel that the Syrian’s case is the most imminent right now, in terms welfare funds.”

“Yes, that is true.” Travis appeared to contemplate the topic or maybe, he was just thinking about Jason and how out of place he looked among all the posh and shallow people. “I’ll think about that.” the white-haired man noticed someone behind Jason and said: “Excuse me,”

Then he walked off in a hurry. Jason glanced back to see him talking to the security guards. An inner sense of excitement surged up in his system since he just knew Kory and Roy were up there making trouble and that the time for him to act would soon come.

He would do a victory fist bump if he weren’t around people. He turned back to see Bruce with his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought you didn’t know how to act properly.”

Jason rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, that’s true. I typically get really stiff around people I don’t think much of but it’s just like you said, you have to find something you’re invested in and just talk about that.”

Bruce’s eyebrows ticked and, if you could believe it, only went lower in contemplation. “That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Well, I didn’t hear most of what you said because I was too shocked but you can bet your ass I interpreted.”

Bruce blinked slowly, his eyes widening before he snorted. “You’re unbelievable,”

“You’re kinda unbelievable yourself.” Jason found himself saying aloud.

Bruce paused for a beat, considering his words and the tone of his voice, which had been a tad bit flirty. He looked inquisitively at Jason, who licked his lips and pushed closer.

He gazed into Bruce’s eyes and cleared his throat. There was a sense of urgency buzzing against his limbs and he scratched his neck as he leaned in to whisper: "Listen, the thing is..."

"Yes?"

"The thing is," he repeated, letting his hand down and internally solidifying his resolve. "That thing I said about us being a one-time thing--" he looked up and found himself drowning in the intelligence and knowledge barely covered in those beguiling eyes "I take it back."

Bruce's lips curved up and there was amusement in the way he lowered his eyelids, looking at the ground with his hands in his pockets. Jason could feel an imbalance in his center of gravity, his limbs telling his brain that they should move a little closer to the object of their desire. He could barely control himself from being pulled into Bruce's impossible magnetism.

"So," he said suddenly, defusing the tension between them before they leaned all the way into each other. "If you have nothing important going on right now, we could find a room somewhere in this hotel and... talk."

Bruce's lips thinned but he didn't look displeased. There remained that spark of heat and humor behind his eye and it was all Jason needed to know because he impulsively turned around and ambled straight toward the entrance door.

"Jason?"

“Come on,”

He didn't stop at the query and was out of the ballroom, walking with certain determination toward the reception and registration desk.

"How much would a private room cost for a night?" He asked the manager quickly.

Then he felt Bruce's presence hovering over him and was dragged to the side before the manager could say anything.

"What?" He asked, his anxiety at being rejected turning his tone rude and brusque.

"Follow me," instructed Bruce and went back the way they'd come.

"I'm not going back to that stupid gala," he said petulantly, following him anyway.

"Then, why'd you come here, Jason?"

Jason, in a pique of frustration, answered: "I was stalking you."

"Try again," Bruce said, stopping before the elevator door and pressing the up button.

Jason stopped and barely held back a smile, filled with relief.

"You had a room here already?"

"I did,"

They entered the elevator and the doors closed as Bruce pressed their floor level.

"Nice," Jason said dryly, leaning against the bar on the walls of the enclosure.

"Almost everyone reserves a room before events like these. Just in case."

"Just in case?" He repeated in a dubious tone and when Bruce didn't look at him, he idly added: "Huh,"

There was a beat of silence in the elevator as the elevator continued to rise and they both glanced at each other at the same time.

Then the elevator dinged and the metal doors opened to reveal the seventh floor. They exited and he followed behind Bruce to the room. Swiping his card in the slot, he opened the door and invited Jason in.

It was a lavish suite possessing the typical things in a hotel or motel room, only they were much more expensive in quality: a king-sized bed with white sheets and white comforter all positioned tidily on the bed, a flat-screen tv attached to the wall opposite the bed, a bathroom door in a corner, most likely right next to a small kitchen and curtains opened to a wide-paneled window with a view.

Jason gave it a perfunctory once-over but it was nothing compared to the thoughts warring inside his head. He looked down at his feet as Bruce closed and locked the door behind him. He would need to get out eventually and he knew how to anyway so he didn’t know why he felt himself break into a sweat.

He stared crisply into Bruce's eyes and advanced toward him with clear intentions painted over his features.

"Just a quickie," he stated and lifted his hands to rest them around Bruce’s shoulder when the other man held him back by two hands gripping him.

"We need to talk, Jason."

Jason wanted to too, surprisingly but they were bound to come across that non-disclosure barrier between them. Bound to realize that Jason was about to use him as a reason for getting out of the ballroom and into one of the suites so he could infiltrate the vault in the basement quite easily. Bound to find out the things they had decided not to talk about that night and wouldn't that be a punch in the solar plexus to find out he was sleeping with the enemy all this time.

"Talking is no fun," he said in an enforced light voice. "You do know when I said we should talk that it was a euphemism, right?"

"Yes, I understood perfectly what you were not so subtly implying, but Jason, you have to understand something about me, about this thing between us."

Unease flashed through his mind and he tensed, smiling with teeth. "What, that we're so sexually compatible that we're both willing to break the unspoken rule of one-night stands. I’d say we’re closer to becoming fuck-buddies, but shit, we’ve only met two times."

Bruce didn't wince but it felt like he wanted to. He looked away, his hands tightening on Jason's shoulder. Then he seemed to collect himself, taking a breath in and out before turning back.

"I know you will deny this so I'll speak for myself when I say that I think this is bigger than sex between us."

Jason couldn't help the way his smile slipped off and a frown marred his features. "We don't know anything about each other to have this be bigger than just that."

"I think we do," Bruce's eyes held unwavering resolve and a burning longing that scared the shit out of him.

"No," Jason shook his head, stepping away from those hands that were so capable at getting inside him and tweaking just the right circuits inside his head that it could make him unable to say no to him forever.

But he had to.

His friends and his mission called to him. He had to get out of here as fast as he could to steal from the vault but without raising suspicion to himself in Bruce's eyes. Although, in his opinion, that had went to shit a long time ago. So there was no helping the fact that his imagined scenario wasn't gonna work out tonight.

He planned to seduce Bruce, fuck him and leave just like last time with that excuse about this being a one-time thing and saying it didn't mean much and that they were probably never doing this again.

But Bruce was a shrewd fucker and he knew an act when he saw one. Frankly, Jason had no compunction about sleeping with him. He looked forward to it actually, but he didn't want to do the same thing to Bruce twice. It felt too...cold.

Jason exhaled and pivoted around, facing the door.

"I'm leaving," Jason informed, eyes closed in distress. He didn't want to leave. He wanted. Oh god, he wanted so much.

"If that's what you want," said Bruce easily.

He thudded his head against the door, one hand on the metallic door-knob. He could feel an empty cavern inside him yawning wider and wider at the yearning that went unfulfilled at each minute that passed.

"At least," he blurted out and couldn't stop his tongue from saying: "At least, call my name again."

There was a pregnant pause and then he felt Bruce's presence hovering over him, his bigger shadow dwarfing his smaller one.

"Jason," called Bruce in a hoarse, choked-up voice.

Something-- some tug of strings inside of him-- constricted and snapped in half. He couldn't take it anymore. He whirled around faster than Bruce could blink and was upon him in less than a second. There was no hesitation on either part once their lips met. It was like a natural order had been restored with Jason wrapped in his arms and their lips and tongue devouring each other, pressing deep and shallow in turns.

There was no thinking involved to the motions. No plan devising for future actions. It was just this urge to consume as much as they were able from one mouth to another. It was Jason grasping Bruce's well-styled hair and messing them up as he yanked him closer and closer until there was no moving involved in their lips and noses mashed together. It was painful; the need to have Bruce. It was too--

Too fast. Everything was moving so fast, so rapidly that the panic once again touched his heart and worked overdrive in his system.

They both pulled away, with a sort-of mute horror at their mutually overwhelming desire for each other.

"I don't think I'm supposed to want you this way," Jason said quietly, voice all dry and roughened up from the kissing . "It's too much."

"I think," Bruce got out with difficulty, cleared his throat. "I think it's been too long since the last time we saw each other."

Jason's eyebrows climbed to his hairline.

"I've been unsatisfied for the months after our..." Bruce trailed off and then, brusquely forged ahead. "I haven't been able to get it up with other people I've met."

 _Oh._ “Shit,"

"Langua--" then Bruce clicked his mouth shut and gave a rueful smile. "I mean, that's about right." Then, something seemed to occur and he looked at Jason in a strange way. "Have you been with anyone since..."

"No," Jason replied honestly. "Too busy with work."

Bruce nodded, eyes unreadable and then, shook himself out of a trance.

“Then this isn’t too much. It’s just been too long.” He reasoned.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed earnestly, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushed back into Bruce’s space, grabbing the lapels of his suit and towing the man right back.

The irrepressible heat had abated from that break in-between and they were kissing slow and easy, their movements fluent and synced to a smooth, dragging rhythm. They danced, in many ways then. Their feets actively inched along the right as they turned gradually until Bruce’s back faced the door and then, they continued to swivel, their necks craned for full access to each other’s open mouth, sucking on scarlet wet tongues, their throats hitching, their grip heavy.

The minutes creeped along as the world outside this space between them moved at a normal pace. Jason’s hands eventually wormed their way inside Bruce’s clothes, crawling up the cotton-starched shirt, feeling the muscles beneath, suit falling on the floor as he traced fire-licked fingers along collar-bones and down the chest. They shuddered, knees buckling. They stopped their impromptu dance and Bruce not so much as pushed but led him back until his back rested on the door.

Mouth brushing his cheeks, grazing his ear lobes, about to return back where they belonged.

A trill of noise came from Jason’s pocket, jarring the silent but tense atmosphere in the room. They looked at one another; Jason with alarm and Bruce with knowledge.

“You have to go,” Bruce said, separating from him.

“Wha--” Jason blocked the noise of protest and tilted his head away. He took out his phone, his brows furrowing. He ignored the missed call and looked at the texts he had missed from Roy.

_Where r u?_

_Me & kori are done._

_We need u._

“Yeah,” sighed Jason, scuffing his forehead. “I’ve gotta go.”

There was a ring of finality to his words and he didn’t like the way it came out. He looked up at the ceiling, his hands tightening on the phone as it vibrated with urgency and nervousness.

A hand covered his hand and he watched as the other man took his phone and typed out something. When Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket, he looked at Bruce in surprise.

“We’ll meet again,” reassured the older man with confidence, handing his phone back. His hands went inside his pockets and he stood there exuding calm.

“Now, go.”

And Jason did.


	3. Discover the Enigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's POV (like an interlude or smthing, idek)

His phone vibrated with an incoming call on the counter of his newly advanced key-sensitive comp but he ignored it in favor of looking at the screen. The bright, blue glow from the comp screen overtook the other dim lighting in the place and cast the general ambience of the dark cave. There were a collective of mug-shots displayed on one window as he typed out on another search window, resizing it so it was next to the pictures. He sat back and took a sip of his tea, frowning when he tasted lukewarm, tasteless drudge.

Footsteps quite familiar to him approached him from behind and stopped a feet away from his chair. He didn't turn around to acknowledge the man, he knew Alfred would chirp out a variation of his routine comment sooner rather than later.

“Still not done, sir?” asked his lanky, elderly butler (in many ways, like a pseudo-mother-hen) with his customary British sarcasm and hint of disapproval underneath the thick accent.

Bruce Wayne sighed, putting the cold tea aside, away from the sensitive key-pad. It was a new system of tech that he was still assimilating to and he didn't need it getting messed-up before he even started.

“No, that’s all done and over with. I already sent Rosalind my feedback.” He replied, readying himself for the reprimand.

Alfred didn’t disappoint. “Well then, I see my advice has fallen to deaf ears yet again." He could practically feel Alfred restraining himself from directly disapproving of his late-hour work routine as he said: "You do have a meeting tomorrow morning, sir.”

“Yeah, on 10:00 am. I am aware. I’ll be ready.”

“I see,” said his butler icily. “And you’ll be needing the concealer on your dressing table along with your suit tomorrow morning yet again, I presume, sir?”

Bruce disguised his wince with the closing of his eyes. He had forgotten about the dark circles he got after nights spent being awake. Being playboy-extraordinaire along with having a charming, lazy personality required Bruce Wayne to at least appear a little put-together. He could blame his tiredness or dark circles to his party lifestyle some of the time but it didn't help raise morale among his employees to do it all the time. He rubbed at the tension on his forehead and nodded in resignation.

“You’re right. I'm going to quit for the night.”

“Very good, sir.” Alfred said, turning around once he knew his job was done.

Bruce glanced at him as he went up the stairs, which lead back to the Wayne Manor’s living room through a secret door on the antique clock-stand attached to the wall. He turned back to take one last long look at the screen and logged off, putting the comp on stand-by. He grabbed his phone and mug from the side and traveled up the stairs as the bats on the top of the basement chattered quietly. With his right hand, he handled his phone, reading that he had four missed calls; three from Lucius Fox and one from Vicki Vale. He had a few texts as well. He scrolled through them and was pleasantly surprised to find a text from Jason.

It just said:

_hey you. miss me?_

He smiled despite himself and started typing before he could think through it:

_all the time_

His thumb hovered over the words, reading them over in his head and thinking about what Jason would see, what he would think.

He deleted the message and typed:

_yes._

_what are you doing being up at this time?_

He sent the message, switching off his screen and walking out of his living room, passing through the hallway, entering his bedroom door and straight into the walk-in closet to change into his sleeping wear. While he did, he replayed his conversation with Rosalind McCabe a few days ago.

The day after the annual charity gala, she had called him to his office, sat him down like he was a juvenile child needing a stern talking to. It had been a most unpleasant conversation.

“I thought you said you were only going to give them a once-over.” She had said pointedly, adding: “I understand that you’re the one in-charge of this agency now but I must seriously object to the length of your involvement. This is a government-sanctioned agency still, despite what you may think and your private involvement with Jason Todd may seriously compromise the missions he participates in the future.”

Bruce looked at himself in the mirror as he buttoned up his flannel shirt.

He remembered the look of sympathy she had given him when he had defended his actions by giving logical reasons for his interference. Something about that expression still burned bitterly in his chest, making him resent her.

“I understand you think you seem to have some sort-of connection with him, but he’s a high-functioning sociopath. He has the ability to manipulate but not the ability to empathize.”

“Is that a medical diagnosis or your own opinion?” He had demanded, his tongue sharp and burning with hostility.

She had stared at him and a light seemed to have flickered underneath her eyes, making her transform instantly from confrontational to a little more approachable, which she showed in the way her body language relaxed somewhat.

Even her voice was forcibly light as she confessed: “Truth is, this agency is most suitable to a guy like Jason. He fits right in. But you can seriously impair his--”

“I don’t want to talk about Jason Todd anymore, Ms. McCabe." He interrupted roughly, frankly no longer interested in her assessment of his and Jason's interaction as it was inherently flawed from the root. She didn't understand Jason and that was her own problem, not his.

"He’s just part of a system." He made himself say. "What I think we need to talk about is the whole: the training of your newer operatives, for one. I think we need to expand the Outlaw agency.”

She had stared at him as if the topic was far from over but she went along with him and discussed their options about the trainee program.

Now here he was, three days after that meeting, four since he had last seen Jason. When he had come home the night of the Gala, he had told Alfred about his plan to rush his debut as Batman.

‘It has nothing to do with Jason’, he told himself as Alfred had raised his brows with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It was just that when he had watched Jason leave out the door of his private suite to jump straight into a risky situation, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from calling Rosalind on his phone.

“You already know what their mission is about, Mr. Wayne." She said, voice clipped, sounding inexplicably piqued that he had interrupted her busy schedule with such an inane question. "And it’s about time you went back to the gala. Some people may be missing you.”

“I’m not one of your agents, Rosalind. I don’t need to go anywhere because someone misses me. I choose where and when I go.”

He hung up before she could say anything else that would piss him off. The situation was self-evident, as she said. Jason and his associates infiltrated heavily-guarded centers to root out any corruption in the system and report it to the local intelligence agency. It was a noble job on paper but he knew as well as Eziah had that they managed some undisclosed, egregious field operations that were pushed under the rug.

Bruce had been trying to find a lead on the context of those operations but hadn't been able to get anywhere what with everyone being so tight-mouthed about the missions.

Their favorite phrase to him was: 'It's classified."

McCabe had been very clever, letting all her officers know that while he may in name be the Head, he wasn't the one who dispersed the orders. His participation in the agency was one limited to overseer of financial accounts. In other words, they gave him intelligence stolen or gathered by field operatives about corrupt companies and he was to read through it, give his feedback and send it back to the supervisor.

It was nothing like it used to be.

The founder of the agency and his predecessor, General Eziah Hassani, had built the secret private agency for Gotham's good but once the Mayor found out, the state government took over. They let Eziah think he was still an important part of the operation but the agency was out of his hand. They took his funding for various militant missions but they only disclosed enough so as to give the vaguest impressions.

After years of fighting against the system, he had become resigned to the game and because he was a friend of Bruce's parents, he had come to the manor to confide in Bruce’s counsel. Eziah wasn't aware of Bruce's own involvement in the crime-fighting aspect nor his ambitions about stopping the corruption in Gotham so the conclusion of that meeting was wholly unforeseen.

"It's a lot of back-and-forth. I try something, they retaliate and then, I have nothing in the end. It's this cruddy stale-male that I can't seem to get over." Eziah had explained, sounding tired and frustrated. Then, he looked up at Bruce with a sad smile. "I couldn't accept that I had already lost the war when they found out about my agency. I should have given up then but I was too stubborn. I held on too long."

"What are going to do now?" Bruce asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm resigning."

"And what's going to happen to the agency?"

"You know what's gonna happen, Bruce. They'll rejoice and continue to do what they were doing without interference. It'll be like Christmas for them, not having me come up in the middle, questioning their every move."

“How about I take your place?” Bruce tried to venture this option in the most casual way possible but the question was too unexpected not to raise a few alarms. “Would that be okay with you?”

Eziah’s eyebrows flew to their highest reaches. “Sure,” he agreed immediately and gave him a cynical look. “But why would you want to?”

Bruce steepled his fingers close to his chin and chose his words carefully: “You’re wrong. This agency, from what you’ve described, sounds perfect in its mission statement. The only problem is that you’re not sure if they’re doing immoral things under the agency’s secretive nature.”

“With recruits like Roy and Kori, yeah, I can bet they’re not doing anything savory.”

“That sounds like bias,” Bruce said, skeptical.

“Roy was charged with the felony of fraud through internet hacking, Bruce. And Kori? she was charged with identity theft and forgery. I found that out through a lot of effort so believe me when I say that it doesn’t sound all wholesome. And don’t forget the biggest thing; their new recruit, Jason Todd? He used to be Lady Shiva’s apprentice and if you don’t know who she is then--”

“I know who she is,” She was a professional assassin, hired by the biggest crime-lords in Gotham to off anyone who came in the way. She was deadly and fast. No-one had ever been able to catch up with her. An apprentice of Shiva would not only be skilled in the art of assassination, but depending on their personality, they might even enjoy their kills.

“Do you see how this could go side-ways?”

He had said ‘yes’ then. Now he was not so sure.

When he had met Jason, he had only been there to look over the ‘unsavory’ operatives Eziah described. He had even asked Rosalind for permission because he knew she would find out anyway. Her eyes were everywhere, apparently.

He hadn't meant to be noticed but once Jason came onto him, he exploited the situation for what it was: an opportunity. To get close and personal with Jason to get an idea about his mannerisms (and whether or not, he had homicidal tendencies) was the improvised goal but the way it happened hadn't gone as he planned.

Things had gotten out of hand fast. One minute he had laser-thin vision; eyes on the prize; do anything to get the info. The next he came to, he was drowning in beautiful, perceptive cerulean eyes and the urge to press his lips to Jason’s was unbearable and unresistable.

Jason had won him over. Gradually and then, all at once.

He went to his bedroom, sweeping aside his comforter and sliding inside. He picked up his phone from the dressing table to check his messages before going to sleep when he noticed a new text from Jason. He opened it and read Jason’s answer to his question:

_something dangerous ;)_

Bruce blinked and wasn’t even surprised that he found himself worrying unnecessarily for the young man’s well-being. He stared at the words and hoped Jason was just joking. Except he knew this was neither a joke nor a lie. It was truth designed to be misunderstood as a joke. He paused with his thumb over the touch-screen, trying to think of anything that would get more info out of him, but he knew if he pried, Jason would skitter away like a pigeon.

 _be careful._ He decided to send and put his phone face-down on the night-table, switching off the lamp light as he lay on his bed with his arms lying on his side and the comforter covering half of his body.

Time ticked by with his eyes still open as he continued to stare at the dark ceiling. Then, his phone started buzzing with a call.

He swallowed, fighting against the urge. It was time to sleep. He should go to sleep.

The phone went silent. His eyes remained unsealed.

It buzzed again.

He grabbed it this time, sitting up as he answered:

“Hello,”

“It’s Wednesday, how are you still awake?”

 _There_ , that bold, audacious voice.

“I was about to go to sleep.” he informed.

“Oh, so I’m disrupting your sleep pattern, am I?”

“No, Jason. I do that well enough by myself. You, however--” he grimaced to himself. “I have a feeling that you’d do the exact opposite.”

“Well right now, I’m not.”

Bruce realized he was clenching his fist at his side and asked the question that had kept bothering him:

“How did that ‘dangerous’ thing go? You’re still in one piece?”

Jason hollered out a laugh on the other line and Bruce wished he was there to see it, feel it, touch it. “Oh yeah, it was nothing. When I said ‘dangerous’, I was clearly exaggerating to get your attention.”

“Well, congratulations.” He uncoiled his fists slowly, looking at it in the dark. “You did.”

“You know,” said Jason in a subtle tone he was becoming increasingly familiar with. It was the kind-of voice that was steeped in flirtation, but edgy with underlying, dark motives. “You’re really good for my ego.”

“I’m glad,”

“Mhmm,” sung Jason. “Now, let’s talk about you. Why do you sound so tired?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I haven’t slept yet?” Bruce stated as a question, rubbing his eyes. He was sleepy but he couldn’t let himself say goodnight. He was hit by a sappy but true thought: that maybe, he would be willing to listen to Jason for...as long as Jason liked.

“Yes, well, that’s not the only thing. I can tell there’s something else. It’s only been four days since I last saw you. How come you sound so stressed?”

“You can tell I’m stressed by my voice?”

“And the fact that you’re not sleeping right now.”

“That’s nothing new.” He said dismissively, giving a tired, little snort. “I don’t keep a proper schedule on any other day. Drives Alfred up the wall.”

“Alfred?”

Bruce hesitated and answered warily. “He’s sort-of like a father to-- well, correction: a mother-figure, to be quite frank. Took care of me after my parents passed away when I was nine.”

“Huh,” murmured Jason. “I didn’t realize we were gonna get so personal when I made this call.”

“We’re not, really.” Bruce tried to assure him but couldn’t tamp down a fresh spark of annoyance at Jason’s ineptness. “You knew about my parents,” everyone knew about his parents in Gotham. That’s why he had moved to England for a few years. That and also, to secretly learn the arts of fighting from Alfred’s friend and then, a few street friends.

“Oh no, wait, I don’t mind that.” Jason was quick to say. “I just didn’t… I--” there was a whooshing noise that sounded like an angry huff and then, “I keep forgetting what this really is.”

Bruce quirked a brow. “Do tell,”

“I called because I thought we could have phone sex while you were still awake but now, I wanna hear more about this Alfred guy. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Language, Jason.” Bruce teased deliberately, smirking to himself.

“And what is your problem with my cursing, anyway? You’re only a few years older than me, you know. I don’t see how that has you acting all high and mighty. I’m not a child, Bruce!”

The orphaned billionaire closed his eyes, relishing the warmth that swept up and down, all around him. He loved when Jason called his name. It made him shiver with delight.

“No,” He rasped out. “You’re not.”

There was a pause on the other end and then, “Are you turned on right now?”

Bruce looked down and shrugged. If it was phone sex Jason had wanted, it seemed like he was gonna get it.

“Yes,” he got out, his voice going gruff and throaty.

“Oh god, yes, yes.” Jason moaned out loud with refreshing zeal. Bruce reached under his comforter to grab his cock and put force. “Okay, okay.” Jason seemed to amass his calm and asked: “What are you wearing?”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m holding my cock, imagining that you’re the one holding it.”

“Oh shit,” there was a rustle of clothes on the other line and a muffled yell, “You can’t just start without me!” then, a few curses later, Jason was in position apparently because he whispered. “Bruce, oh Bruce,”

 _That was so unfair_ , thought Bruce as he took off his pajamas and lay back. _To use his name like that. It was so unfair._

He started stroking his cock slowly, one hand on the phone still while the stimuli from Jason’s aroused voice on the other line was enough to harden him in minutes.

“Tell me what you want, Bruce." demanded Jason sweetly, releasing a drawn-out breath. "I promise I'll give it to you."

Throat suddenly dry, Bruce licked his lips and swallowed back spit. "What are you doing, Jason?" He was able to ask with difficulty, imagining all the angles, all that alabaster skin on display with its mottled bruises and fading scars that he had barely seen, only felt in the shadow of the car.

Knowing that Rosalind might be able to follow them to the isolated area where they had sex, he had deliberately parked them in the darkest corner so nothing could be seen that wasn't deliberately sought out. He was glad for that; contrary to popular belief, he was immensely defensive about his privacy.

"What do you think I'm doing, Bruce?" Jason teased and he could hear the smile in that husky, playful voice.

"I think," he breathed out. "I think you're playing with your hole. I think your finger is just one inch inside you, waiting for me, waiting for--"

Jason groaned out. "Yes, yes. Fuck, Bruce, touch me, fuck me. Give it to me."

"Fuck yourself, Jason." he growled out. “Get those fingers inside you. Get them deeper and deeper until you can feel yourself full to the point that it burns.”

A moan answered his orders and he could feel the vibration, the tremor of every note in that lewd sound through his ears, running smoothly down his esophagus straight to his groin. He grinded his hips back into the mattress as it creaked under his weight, stroking his cock in a rush as he imagined just the kind-of dirty things he had demanded Jason do. He imagined it all in perfect detail, heard the pornographic noises Jason made through the phone and released his cum in a matter of minutes.

He breathed out fast and heavy, limbs slack, his body satiated and his heart drumming into his ribcage. The haze of rosy-colored and lusty thoughts abruptly lifted and he was listening to Jason panting out after his release on the other end with a lost expression.

 _What is this?_  

He touched the center of his chest, bunching up the flannel into his hold.

_What is it?_

“Well, that was…” Jason got out after a while, recovering.

“--not that satisfying.” Bruce murmured, closing his eyes to try to see the reaction on Jason’s face at his words. “It’s good. It was really good but--”

“You want to see me,” finished Jason with not even a little bit of hesitancy or doubt in his voice.

It was strange, how they were able to read each other from miles away-- how they seemed to have built this connection out of nothing but a one-night stand. How it got to be this way from Bruce’s amateur attempted espionage and Jason’s professional attempted one. It was so strange that the longing to see each other was sudden and immediate and so intense that there was no thought of even hiding from it or hiding it from the other. There was want and this want was... deep; breaching skin, marrow and accessing nerve clusters, messing with brain patterns, making hormonal neurons fire up when they shouldn’t.

The next day, Bruce found himself sitting next to his business associates, listening to a presentation made by the Head of Economic and Financial Handling department about how to expedite their resources according to the recent data collected, what must be done and what must not. It was pretty illuminating and Ms. Ruth Conrad commended the man for his effort after he was done when Bruce remained silently brooding.

She looked to him and he could feel her silently cajoling him to say something.

He shifted, straightening in his chair. "Yes, well, that was really thought-provoking. I will have your report examined by the extremely capable Ms. Conrad and when she has proof-read and modified the solutions to our environment, we will implement them."

He gave the man a wide, toothy smile to put him at ease about his work and when that seemed to help the man relax, he said:

"Alright, you all are dismissed. Except you, Ruth. Stay a minute."

The woman only turned to him with a sardonic eyebrow. When all of them left the room with Lucius being the last one, giving him a nod of recognition from the doorway and passing by and out, Bruce started speaking:

"I forgot to ask if you didn't mind looking over the project," he started, apologetic. "You know, in most cases, I'm more than happy to do this but--"

"--You're busy," guessed Ruth incorrectly. "I know that, Bruce. You don't have to explain yourself. As a matter of fact, I'm a little offended you even have to ask. I’m happy to do it for you. Just give me a little leeway with the deadline for some of the other projects I’m handling.”

Bruce paused, resisting the urge to correct her and instead, assented to her request. It was the least he could do.

"Sure, anything for you.”

The truth was, he wouldn't have thought to explain himself except for the fact that he didn't have a good reason for delegating his job onto her. He was completely free this afternoon yet he was letting her think he was busy. He held his forehead and thought about being upfront but she had stood up already, taking the files and folders that accompanied the presentation in her hands.

"If you'll excuse me, I have work to do, Mr. Wayne." said Ruth politely and walked away.

He watched the door for a minute and sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He had only gotten a maximum of four hours sleep last night and it was impeding his ability to think, reason and deduce. And his sullen musings about Jason and his ever-colorful personality didn't help much.

“Sir,” came the voice of his assistant from the door. He looked up. “There’s a Mr. Johnson here for you. Said he had RH business to discuss with you.”

Bruce stood up slowly, trying not to show his eagerness. “Yes, of course.”

He walked to his office with his assistant and turned around before they could enter.

“This is a private meeting. I want no-one to come into this office, do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, sir.” replied his assistant.

“Thank you,”

Once his assistant sat back at his deck by the door of his office, he turned back to the door, adjusted his suit and entered.

There was a man sitting on his office chair, with his back to Bruce, swinging from here to there lightly and mysteriously. There were straight-combed blond hair covering his head and he was wearing an old-fashioned yet tailored, sandy-colored suit, he noted with amusement.

He shut the door.

“I didn’t know there was need for a complete disguise just to meet me,” Bruce said as he untangled his tie and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. “Or do you like role-play?”

The man swung around revealing an unrecognizable face that startled him for a minute and then, Johnson touched the sides of his face and peeled off the holographic mask. Gone was the blond hair and the squarish white face from before.

Looking back at him was Jason, an exasperated look on his face. “Way to reveal everything, Bruce.” He glanced around with a suspicious look. “What if you have surveillance cameras or bugs tapped into this office?”

“Yes, Jason.” replied Bruce sarcastically. “I invited you to my office with bugs planted all over my office. Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“You never know, you know.” Jason said, getting out of the chair. “Corporations like this are always filled with some stupid thing.”

“And you would know because…”

Jason averted his eyes for a moment and thought of lies, Bruce could tell. Then, in a pique of frustration that seemed more of an act, he burst out:

“Look, I’m a street-kid, okay! I’m always a little leery of big business places." He looked around his office with a disdainful gaze and turned to him with crossed arms. "Everything is so damn clinical and detached in these places, it seriously creeps me out.”

Bruce stared at him pointedly and sighed when Jason continued to act innocent. He could believe there was some honesty in his opinion but that wasn't the reason for the disguise to go so far.

“And I suppose I’m going to have to ignore the holographic mask or where it came from?”

Those things were supposed to be out of public reach, he knew. Prototypes of it were dispersed to scarce military units and secret agencies that had to do with extra-terrestrial existence or meta-humans or--

Or agencies like the Outlaw. Agencies that were surely out of the public eye for a reason. Agencies that were meant to do something far bigger than what the officials stated.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Bruce.” shrugged Jason, challenging him with a knife-like look in his eyes, telling him if he’d like to figure it out, he could try. His small self-satisfied told him that Jason was confident Bruce (an ordinary businessman in his estimation) could never decipher the subtle signs.

And that was the complication; Bruce was not an ordinary businessman. He was in many ways, aware what exactly Jason did for the Outlaw Agency. He had come to the conclusion first thing that morning and even before, it had been a niggling suspicion at the back of his mind. One that he had initially focused on with dogged force for most of the night of their first meeting. 

Then, pieces of his inner soul came up and out.

He realized with a painful pang that this wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

He smiled.  ****

But he was willing to put all his chips on the game they were playing.

He bowed his face, kissing Jason with closed eyes. Soft and smooth pink lips grazed his, the curves on the ends lining an impression against his and bumps on the upper lip brushed his own almost playfully. He breathed out, tilting his head to gain more access, grabbing onto Jason's arms.

He trusted that whatever the consequences, he was going to love playing this game anyway.

Jason’s lips turned up into the kiss and his arms came around Bruce’s shoulders, back-stepping, leading them both with his feet back to Bruce’s office chair.

He turned them both around and shoved Bruce into the seat, catching him off-guard. Bruce let himself rest on the chair and watched as Jason pulled the armchair in his grip, controlled the swing of it. And with a shark-like grin, he deepened the kiss between them. Swiping through the recesses of Bruce’s mouth, he jumped up and hopped on top of Bruce as the seat swung on its axis with nothing to hold its flight.

They spun like that for a few seconds at most-- spinning in a dizzying yet exhilarating moment of craving-- and when the chair finally came to a stop, they were too fallen to remember what the ground felt like.

 

 

Their hands worked in the small gaps between their bodies to divest each other of their formal attires. It was difficult but the only thing on their minds was a harsh hot burning desire. They succeeded in pulling out their rock-hard erections and rubbed them against each other, grinding and bucking simultaneously in a sporadic rhythm.

“I want to ride you,” Jason spoke against the taut carotid nerves of his neck, breathing out cold air. “I want it so bad right now, Bruce.”

“Don’t worry,” Bruce murmured, patting the man’s back with one hand as it slid down the curves of his spine. He wished he could touch the bare skin underneath but still, feeling the outline of the muscles underneath was better than not being able to touch at all. He could feel the heat of Jason, seeping into his fingers, crossing into his system. The atmosphere seemed as if it was bathed in a sweltering fever, and when he inhaled quick and explosive, the fever penetrated and infected him all over.

“I’ll take care of you.” he said without thinking, eyes blurred over and mind in a trance.

He felt Jason pause in his ministrations and take a moment before going back in to ravish Bruce’s mouth. His hand grasped the back of Bruce’s head, pulling him nearer. There was something urgent about him, something anxious in the way his hand moved over Bruce’s hair and tightened on a few lock of his hair.

“Jason?” he called out when they pulled away. Jason ignored him and stood up, throwing off his pants to the side. Then, pulling the waistband of his boxers from around his thighs, he turned and bent over as he peeled it off of him. Bruce opened his mouth and couldn’t help the way his tongue swept over his lips as he watched.

Once Jason was done, he looked back at Bruce with a blithe smile.

They stared at one another for a minute.

Bruce stood up and once Jason was within reach, he drew him close and grabbed his thighs.

“Bruce, wha--”

He pushed the black-haired boy over onto the desk, catapulting him so he almost fell all the way into the things occupying it. He held Jason’s waist with one hand as he threw the things out of his desk with the other one. Then he seized Jason by the thighs again and propelled him to the edge.

Jason looked into his eyes and touched his cheek in a stupor.

“You don’t keep lube around your office, by any chance?” He asked cheekily, grinning shamelessly.

Bruce shook his head.

“That’s too bad,” Jason clutched his loosened tie and hurled him in so Bruce toppled over. “I really shouldn’t believe you when you say things like, ‘I’ll take care of you’.”

While Jason was talking, Bruce had taken out the lube bottle in his dress pants’ pocket and proffered it once he was done talking. Jason blinked at it first and then his eyes leapt to Bruce’s, showing surprise and pleasure.

“You were saying?” Bruce asked nonchalantly.

Jason laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: you’re unbelievable,”

Bruce let his forehead rest against his. “For no-one more than you.”

Jason’s delighted eyes and amused smile stilled but didn’t stop from lurking. The shine of his smile however, had to dim or life wouldn’t be real.

“You’re funny,” he choked out, his eyes saying accusatory things like: “ _Stop saying things like this already. You know it hurts. Stop saying them_.”

But Bruce couldn’t stop. His… care for Jason was unstoppable. “For you, anything.” He meant to say it in a playful voice. He meant to but--

Jason closed his eyes, furrowed his brows and looked away as if everything about his words were a stab of the knife.

Bruce caught his chin and inclined it as he held those lips in his for a moment of reaffirmation.

“I won’t say more,” he murmured when he pulled away. He bent down and squirting lube over his fingers, he started prepping Jason.

In a matter of moments, he heard the involuntary moans tumbling out of Jason’s mouth and felt his legs squirm over Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce licked his inner thigh, working the three fingers in and out insistently to the point of sadism. The shrieks of need and anticipation tore out of that red and wet mouth He made to bite Jason there, thrusting in with excitement.

“Bru--” Jason stifled the yell about to erupt from his mouth and instead, kicked at his head in frustration.

He chuckled, knowing his breath blew over his hole because it twitched around his fingers.

“Fuck me, please.” came the painfully small voice.

He stopped.

He stood up, hovering over the disheveled man laying on his office desk.

“Say that again,” He demanded, throat tight.

Jason’s dark blue eyes flashed and his shirt was doubled over his chest, leaving his chest and stomach bare.

His rumpled suit, his hands lying limp on either side of him, his torso puffing up intermittently with shaky breaths was doing something to Bruce’s brain.

It was breaking him.

“Please,” he heard and who was to stop him?

He clenched one hand around Jason’s thighs and drove in. The feeling of it-- wet and hot and tight-- overwhelmed him at once.

He breathed out a sigh and a sob in relief. It had been many weeks since he got to feel this. He thought it must have been a dream, to feel this good, but it wasn’t. It was not a dream.

He pushed until he was fully deep inside and stayed there.

“This was reckless,” he bit out as he covered Jason’s body with his, facing him with alert, watchful eyes. Now that he was inside Jason, the dizziness was leaving his brain. He was coming to the realization that he had been very stupid. He knew Jason coming here had been a bad plan from the start, but that night, the need had outweighed his cold, calculating brain and he had agreed to Jason’s offer to come visit him.

What had they been thinking?

“You wanted to see me,” Jason said with a shrug as if to answer the question suddenly bothering Bruce. “It’s not my fault.”

Bruce exhaled an angry sigh and nodded. “Yes, of course, I’m the only one at fault here.”

Jason smirked. “If you get it already, then start moving, will you?”

Bruce fixed his eyes on him and wondered,

_They're both kidding themselves here, right?_

_Thinking they know nothing about the other..._

_What the hell are they thinking?_

He complied with Jason’s request, shutting his eyes and pulling out before thrusting back in. It was easy to give in. So easy to feel the pleasure that came from not just the wet heat sheathing him nor the friction nor the way Jason wrapped his thighs around his waist nor the moans (though they were quite arousing, he was starting to wonder if Jason had been a professional pornstar in some previous lifetime). It was his face-- watching the flicker of expressions on his face as he felt every deliberate jab, every time he half-opened his eyes and didn’t see Bruce near and touching him in other ways. The longing was there. He could see it.

He tested his patience, waiting to see who drove the other mad with yearning first. Then, Jason’s eyebrows were creasing in such a way that it was heart-aching and he was pinching Jason’s nipples, darting in for a kiss before he even decided he was going to do it.

He could breathe now.

They wound themselves around each other as he pounded into Jason and Jason held onto his arms like a life-line. They kissed each other up and around, anywhere they could get within their reach. It was hard because he realized he had a craving to bite and lick Jason’s nipples. It was hard because he realized he wanted to swallow Jason’s cock in his mouth. It was hard because he realized Jason was going to leave after this.

So he held on even when Jason’s release hit and his muscles tightened around Bruce in a way that was irresistible. He held on and pulled out even when Jason spoke in protest. He held onto his arousal and licked and bit Jason’s nipples.

Jason yelped and clutched his head, ruffling through his hair as Bruce devoured those light brown pin-pricks. He touched Jason’s waist and slid it down, feeling the skin. His arousal throbbed and throbbed but it was worth the pain of holding back because he was exploring Jason’s mesmerizing skin. He glided down and grasped Jason’s hips, taking Jason’s dick in his mouth and bobbing up and down over it as Jason cried out.

“Bruce!” He said, swiveling his head aside, his cracked voice restrained. “I’m still too sens-- shhh--” he put a fist over his mouth as Bruce licked over the head, caressing the slit with his tongue. “You ass, there are people outside your office, do you even remember that?!”

His voice was low but his face was all twisted up in worry and anger as he glared down at Bruce. Bruce looked up at him with his cock still in his mouth, licking around over and over again.

He popped off to see Jason’s face frozen in a trance and said, “You taste good.”

“Yeah,” Jason swallowed and kept looking at him as his dick grew bigger under Bruce’s hold. “Oh fuck,” He muttered in dismay, seeing as his erection had arrived despite his best efforts and snatched Bruce’s collar, pulled him and then, pushed.

Bruce separated from him in confusion as Jason stood up, shoving him until Bruce was the one sitting on the desk.

“Well, I did want to ride you so--” He sprang agilely on top of Bruce and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s shoulders. Face-to-face, they stared and Jason gave him a teasing smile. “Better keep up.”

Bruce bucked up, aiming his cock between Jason’s buttocks. Jason twitched and rested more comfortably against his weeping, blood-red erection. When he saw the look of pained want on Bruce’s face, he smiled and took Bruce’s dick in hand, raised up a little and pushed down.

Bruce gave a relieved sigh, closing his eyes. The torture was finally over.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Jason said, breathing over his lips. He lifted up and slammed back down, making Bruce nearly whimper at the wonderful friction. “All that holding back for what? You could’ve just asked, Bruce.”

“I wanted to--”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to touch you.”

“Oh,”

Jason appeared thoughtful, his eyes unreadable. He went up and down automatically, as if on instinct, not giving it another thought. Bruce couldn’t help deducing (with a pang of jealousy) that Jason must have done this position a lot in the past. He wondered why. Was it because of his need to control everything? He had always gotten that inkling about Jason’s personality. That he would rather be on top than anything else.

Jason finally looked at him, his eyes soft yet hard. He clenched his hands around Bruce’s hair and kissed him. Bruce grinded back as Jason rode him. There was an armor around Jason, he could sense it, but the burning in his veins overrode all other thought. He couldn't control himself anymore. He was on autopilot, the flame rising and rising higher until it consumed.

The release took everything out of him. He lay there on the desk with Jason covering him and they both breathed out.

What happened next didn’t surprise him.

Jason extricated himself from Bruce once he caught his breath and dressed up, put the holographic mask back on, and looked into the mirror to check himself over.

Once he was done, he didn’t look at Bruce.

“Bye,” he said and his head made an aborted attempted to turn to Bruce’s direction but instead, he restrained himself and walked out without another word.

Bruce wouldn’t say it didn’t sting a bit but it didn’t surprise him.


	4. The Enigma Stands

A few days later, Jason was sitting on the kitchen table, munching on thai food when he noticed the sensation of someone watching him really intently from the seat next to him.

He stopped chewing, side-eyed Kori for a moment and resumed popping more spicy lo mein with orange chicken into his mouth. When he had swallowed most of the content, he tucked his chopsticks inside the paper carton and set it aside on the table.  

He turned to Kori and raised a brow in question.

“What’s up?”

She didn’t answer him for a moment, still staring at him with a perplexed look on her face.

“You’re dating someone, aren't you?” She interrogated in a gentle manner yet the tone of accusation betrayed her.

Jason froze and glanced at Roy, who was sitting at the couch of their living room, watching TV. He seemed to be completely preoccupied with changing the channels persistently searching for something good.

He regarded his attention back to Kori and let out the query with the slightest of wariness. “Why do you think I’m dating someone?”

Her eyes became small, assessing every inch of his face before her eyebrows descended and formed a final, solid thought.

“You have this ‘glow’...” she replied, making the quotation mark sign mechanically. Her eyes were soft and considering so he dismissed this being some sort-of absurd joke. Kori was the type who took everything at face-value. She was also, inept at sarcasm and other human things since she was from an alien world and didn't get why they did weird shit all the time. The quotation mark was just another one of the human puzzles she hadn't figured out yet.

“Glow?” He repeated, dumbfounded. The assessment had come way out-of-the-blue and what disconcerted him the most about it was that she sounded as if she was serious about it too.

“Yes,” Kori nodded, looking more sure now. “You seem happy. Right, Roy?”

“Huh?” Roy let out a confused grunt, his gaze never leaving the TV screen. “What’d you say?”

Jason was thankful when Kori sighed in exasperation and stood up, turning her intense green eyes back to her boyfriend.

“What are you watching?”

She ambled over to the open living room area, standing behind the couch when her eyes caught on the TV and stuck there. Her eyes widened and her brows went up in disbelief.

“Put the volume up,” She urged Roy and glanced at Jason in a curious way. He stood up immediately, knowing this was something he needed to see and walked over to watch what was on the TV.

It was the news channel, showing a clip (it looked like it was from a stationary municipal security camera) and blinked when he saw a shadow appear from the top of the screen. A few people ran at the shadow, with crowbars and other weapons. The shadow dodged every attack with a grace that seemed unbelievably practiced and skilled. When he retaliated, it was with perfect precision and control.

“What the hell?” Roy muttered to himself.

“--at the gas station near the warehouse where the gang was hiding out and as you can see--” Jason was finally able to register the anchorman talking in the background of the clip. “--if we zoom in--” the clip paused and magnified on the point where the large shadow of the man was. “--the mysterious man who fought off the members of Yoi-Lai street gang wore a black cape and a black cowl to cover his face. He’s also, wearing some sort-of suit of armor.”

Under the clip, in bolded writing was the text: “A New Vigilante In Gotham! How long will this one last?”

Roy put the TV on mute as the anchorman started inquiring Commissioner Gordon on the details.

“So,” Roy intoned, looking nonplussed for all the aloofness that was stored in that one word. “A wannabe or what?”

Jason shook his head. “No, he was too good.”

“What about that suit? It looked like kevlar to me.” shrugged Kori, looking unconcerned. “Though with that terrible video quality, whoever could tell?”

“Jesus effing Christ,” hissed Roy, sounding abnormally irked. “What is a vigilante doing here in Gotham for his first foray into crime-fighting? He’s gonna get killed in a few days time.”

Jason locked sharpened eyes on Roy and asked, “First? You haven’t seen anyone like him before?”

“Don’t think so,” replied the red-haired man churlishly. “Why, do you think he’s done this before?”

Jason twitched on the spot and threw himself on top of the couch, with crinkled eyebrows, slouched shoulders and an unhappy frown, he said. “It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“I thought I saw a bat-symbol on his suit.”

“And? That’s important because…?”

“I don’t know, I just--” Jason pressed two fingers against his forehead, trying to recover a dusty memory that was being blocked from him. “I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

Roy stared. Jason looked to Kori for some assist in figuring out this strange feeling, but she stood there, her expressions closed-off in some far-off thought.

“Kori? Do you know what he’s talking about?” Roy knelt on the sofa, turning around so he faced her.

She stood there contemplating and nodded slowly. “In London…”

Suddenly, the memory came back to him in a rush. He slapped a hand against his head. “In London! Yes, there was this masked guy, remember?”

He jumped up to his feet in his excitement. Roy and Kori looked startled to see him so energetic and just stared.

“Mr. Hamilton was checked into the Langham Hotel and we were told to execute him while he was with his girlfriend. Remember?”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Oh right, wasn’t there a problem with that? You didn't show up in time because you met some weirdo who-- wait, don’t tell me, you met that guy?” He pointed at the screen to indicate the masked vigilante.

Jason gave an aggravated huff. “Maybe, I don’t know.” He turned over the meeting with the guy and recalled a growly voice, muscular arms, and an intimidating demeanor. “Met is a big word. More like, we bumped into each other and he told me not to do what I was about to do.”

“And then, he tried to restrain you, right?” Kori inquired.

“Yeah, these thick rope things with a bat-symbol at the end of them.” Which was what reminded him of the masked vigilante in the first place.

“But you escaped.”

Jason smiled. “Obviously,”

Roy turned back to the TV and turned the volume back on as he noticed the text on the screen changing.

Now it said: “New Images Revealed! Masked Vigilante Spotted Before”

“We have acquired some new information on the same case just now. At noon, 3:24 pm exactly, one photographer by the name of Gareth Jones of The Gotham Gazette caught a few photos of the same masked man.”

A variety of pictures then came on, showing wide shots of a car chase from the pedestrian side, with the same dark-geared Vigilante jumping onto a truck with the police cars blaring behind. In one of the sequential images, he grabbed an equipment that looked like a drill and in another image, a rope shot into something out of the screen.

“He was found chasing four perpetrators in the truck who were trying to get away from their recent robbing attempt in Gotham’s foremost bank establishment. These were the same criminals who are suspected to have been behind the robbing in Base bank at 8th Avenue last month and KD bank at Jaulice Street.

“By eyewitness accounts, it seems the vigilante succeeded in stopping the four perps from escaping and left before the police could question him or apprehend him for interference charges. The police have been having difficulty for the past two years catching these criminals, but seems this ‘vigilante’ has solved their problem for them. More discussion on the who this vigilante is and what he's doing here in Gotham will come after the break.”

Jason blinked and exchanged an incredulous glance with his friends, who looked as taken-aback as him.

There was a pregnant pause after Roy shut off the TV.

“Let me get this straight,” Roy broke the silence, speaking slowly as if still processing. “During the chaos that happens amid a car chase, he was able to get on top of a truck’s rooftop somehow as it's going the highest velocity it can and then, he stopped the freaking criminals from going anywhere?”

Roy and Kori both turned to look at Jason. “Is this really the same guy you saw?”

Jason crossed his arms, pressing his lips together. “I don't know,”

“How were you able to get away from him again?”

“He left after he tied me up in a double-strength rope and once I cut it off and left, I never saw him again.”

“Well, the image confirms one thing: there is a bat drawn on the center of his armor.” Kori informed and went over to get Roy’s laptop, sitting on one of the chairs around the kitchen table as she opened it.

“What’re you up to?” Roy inquired as he went to sit by her side.

“Googling the photographer’s name. I want to look at the images in more detail.”

“Right,” he backed away and finding himself idle for once, he tapped against the wooden table as he eyed Jason out of the corner of his eyes. Finally, he ventured to ask: “Do you think this guy could spell trouble for us?”

Kori stopped clicking away and Jason arched his brow, giving it some thought.

“We’ll see,” he answered.

**  
  
**

In the weeks following that incident, the masked vigilante showed up more and more in the news media, with two basic routines being sort-of the highlight. His first routine consisted of finding a number of suspects on the run for charges of violent crime or fighting off drug-dealers, street gang members, petty muggers and each time, he would tie them up, call an anonymous tip from a blocked comm, and leave before the police showed up. He did this routine at night, like a patrol officer overlooking nothing untoward happened in his presence.

The second routine consisted of beating up and stopping perpetrators as they were in the middle of committing crimes. Many heists and robberies in Gotham were stopped thanks to him. Commissioner Gordon and some other police officers seemed disgruntled when reporters asked for a response on the vigilante. Perhaps, because they knew he was doing a better job than them.

In a matter of time, people had started to notice that the heroic efforts of the vigilante were actually working. Gothamites were a cynical creature but incident after incident, the hope emerged that maybe, this one could save them.

There had been many wanna-be costume-wearing vigilantes that stood for justice and helped the citizens more than a few times but they couldn't face up to big figures, like Penguin.

But one of the targets of Batman (that's what they were calling him now) had been a close accomplice of Penguin and once he had been arrested, the crowds roared with approval.

Then magazines and newspapers started printing and publishing recollections of the victims Batman had rescued from unfortunate situations. They were a pages filled with pure hero-worship. Children, women and men alike all telling reporters that they were saved by Batman, that if it weren't for him, their lives would be wrecked.

Metropolis, Star City and Central City started sending funds to support foster and orphanage programs after reading some of the stories of street kids, who lost their parents because of a robber, a drug addiction or a variation of other crimes infesting Gotham.

The people’s morale was raising. Volunteers started signing up in non-profit organizations to help rebuild some of the wrecked sites in the city or help educate homeless kids or adopt them, even.

This was all a result of Batman’s influence. Despite his dark-and-grey outfit, he was the light at the end of the tunnel for many people in Gotham. People used to walk around in fear and caution everywhere. There was a survivalist mind-set to how they approached things. They ignored crimes happened right by their neighborhood. They acted uncaring and cold to the cares of beggars.

Once Batman appeared, most people called 911 to report a crime happening near them, at least. The deep-worn fear they held with shame and frustration had started to leave.

When Jason read the stories, he knew people were being too optimistic too soon. The vigilante had only been there for a month, it was too quick to jump to conclusions. But it was also true that it didn’t start with one man or one woman standing up to fight filth with bravery; it was when the people stood in camaraderie, in support, to fight back as well.

**  
  
  
**

“You look fatigued.” Jason commented, taking off his helmet and unmounted his bike.

“I look fatigued?” repeated Bruce, with a note of amusement singing beneath the mock offended tone. He was leaning against a black Bentley SUV, hands in the pockets of his hazel wood jacket. “Well,” he lifted warm blue eyes and smiled, remarking: “You look beautiful.”

Jason blinked and his lips twitched in a barely suppressed curl. He bowed his head as he strolled toward Bruce and with wry, half-lidded eyes, he clasped the back of Bruce’s head and pulled him forward.

“You say the nicest things.” He whispered in the space between them and kissed him passionately. Bruce returned the kiss with equal fervor, tilting his head to the side and sliding a hand into Jason's hair, ruffling through them as he dragged Jason toward him.

They met often like this, whenever they could find the time, which was mostly, (surprise, surprise) at midnight. In hotel rooms reserved by Bruce, they continued their sex-only rendezvous. It was routine now, but one thing that wasn't was the way Bruce always found new ways to make his heart beat faster without touching him.

 _Someone save him_ , he thought feverishly, letting his hand slide over Bruce’s cheeks and letting his thumb dip in the strong yet soft jaw. _He was falling for Gotham’s notorious playboy’s charm left, right and center._

Kori had been right and wrong. He was ‘glowing’ but that wasn't because he was dating someone. It was because he was having the best, bone-satisfying sex of his life.

**  
  
  
**

It was a cold night.

November was right around the corner so many apartments and public buildings around Gotham City were bedecked in halloween decorations already. Street lamps lit the alley where he stood and people were walking silently and cautiously past. Dusty and unused cars were parked near the side-walk.

Crime Alley.

This used to be his home.

“Red Hood?” Kori called from behind.

He turned slightly in her direction. She wore a black quilted parka on top of her high-neck shirt and her head was covered with a blue-colored wig, styled in short, spiky tresses. Through the hipster glasses she wore as part of her disguise, she gave a long look that was a shade dark with worry, but didn’t say a word.

“We ready?” He inquired.

She nodded, giving him a band to tie around his wrist. He tied it under his leather jacket, over the suit of armor he wore.

Tonight, they were doing a field mission that was different from the norm because they weren't doing it for the agency.

There was an institution built here that taught street kids how to rob, to fight, to murder even. They wouldn’t have cared for it and neither would McCabe but Kori (who was investigating a bar nearby for criminal activity, disguised as a stripper) had heard from one girl that the boys there were getting too aggressive. They would sexually harass and violate girls who were forced to be students. The principal was covering it up to the media and the public as a sweet place that took in runaway kids and gave them meaningful education.

Many people were buying it because the school was accredited. Also perhaps, because they didn’t want to deal with Crime Alley and its constituents most of the time. So it was up to people like him and his friends, who were familiar with the treachery that went on behind the veil.

He was dressed and armed to the T, the band around his wrist a tracker and a link to the comm in his ear. It had other softwares to help him with the mission. The plan was that Roy would stay behind, Kori would infiltrate the school and Jason was going to kill the lady responsible for the completely corrupt educational institution.

They had discovered where she lived quite easily; it wasn't like she was keeping it a secret.

He shot a grappling hook into the window of her apartment floor and levitated with the retrieval of the rope, lurching to a stop when he reached his destination. Putting gloved hands by the side of her glass pane, he stepped onto the ledge.

He crouched and picked at the lock of the window, sliding it open and entering the apartment with cautious steps. The living room was shrouded in moonlight and it appeared as if nobody was there.

He padded across the floor and found himself hiding against a wall as he heard noises coming from a room nearby. It was opposite the kitchen and he could guess it was the master bedroom. He turned his ear in that direction and tried to decipher the voice-- whether it was male to female, whether it was agitated or easy-- those things were important when confronting a possible target.

When he noticed that it sounded like an elderly woman who appeared to be talking on the phone with someone, he skulked stealthily nearer and heard:

“--calling me all the time. I told you things are going fine.”

He smelled smoke coming from the gap between the bedroom door, guessing it was nicotine. He peered through the space, a small shadow falling over the wooden floor, pacing the floor.

“Yes, the social services are bothering me but who don’t they bother? They’re like buzzing flies. Nobody pays them any mind.”

He tapped the record button on the band wrapped around his wrist and pushed it forward so it captured her voice as she talked.

“What, now? They’re not... You give me a month, at least... Nobody learns anything in a month, but it’s better than-- Yes, yes. I understand… Those kids are learning, though… Well, fine. You’ll get two young boys by the end of this week. Just don’t complain if they aren’t ready... Okay, I know. I’ll see you.”

He heard the beep as the call ended and grabbed his gun from the holster on his thigh, removing the safety lock. He kicked the door open as he aimed it at her.

He couldn’t press the trigger even as she came within his sight though because a voice surprised him from behind, ordering:

“Drop it,”

The voice was familiar in its coldness, in its gravelly undercurrent, in the way it came out a little hoarse.

He didn’t drop his .32 Magnum suppressor for a moment, contemplating his choices first.

Then, chilly metal touched the nape of his neck.

“I said, drop it.”

He was absolutely sure who was behind him now. He threw his weapon near his feet and kicked it away. He turned around with hands raised to face the increasingly popular vigilante known as Batman.

Just like the footages and photos showed, he was wearing a cowl and Kori had been right, the gray suit with the Bat symbol was reinforced with Kevlar.

“She’s gonna run away, you know.” He informed nonchalantly, pretty sure the man wasn’t going to attack him. From what he had heard, Batman didn’t injure someone unless he was defending himself. “And she’s working under someone big so who knows what they’d do if they find out we’re up in their business, trying to wreck shit.”

The man looked at him from behind white lenses, glanced at the woman and shot at her. A net ejected from the glock of his firearm and covered her as she was lurching out of the way. Jason looked at it and smiled.

It reminded him of how that weird costumed guy had done the same thing to him. He wasn’t dressed the same way but he had sensed the similarity between the two right from the start, just by seeing a shitty footage. It was the way they moved. Bit aggressive but self-controlled.

Nothing, no expression showed on the other man’s face, which was a given. Jason was wearing a red helmet to hide his face as well as his expressions too. It made the person more fearful when you could see no sign of humanity on their faces. Or it could protect the face from attacks.

Mostly though, Jason did it because he couldn’t bear to let his face show to targets. When they begged for their life, when they looked at him; it was easier not to let them see that it affected him because no matter what, he would always pull the trigger.

He had made forty-three kills so far for the agency and each of them was a mark etched into his soul, etched into the walls of his bedroom.

“Anyway,” He began in an easy tone even while he sneaked the dagger out from the inside of his jacket’s wrist sheath. Now that Ma'Gann was immobilized, he could act against the irritant. “You’re in my way.”

As he swiftly slashed at his chest, Batman jerked away, predicting the assault. He grabbed Jason’s right arm, pulling it taut and kneed at his inner elbow, disarming him. He grunted and drove his left fist against the vigilante’s temple. The man stumbled back from the impact and swung a jab at his torso.

“ _Fugh_ \--” He couldn’t avoid the ambush and recoiled, resting a hand against his chest.

“Jason?” Roy asked through the comm-link. “Are you fighting someone?”

It was about time he noticed, but Jason couldn’t talk right now. He was busy.

He flung an uppercut, aiming for the man’s liver when a hand latched onto his, twisting it so it throbbed. He pushed away, and abruptly, swung a straight kick at Batman’s neck. It hit right where it hurt perfectly and the man stepped back, seizing his throat.

It must be hard for him to breathe. Taking the opportunity for what it was, he bashed against his jaw and into his stomach. With Batman incapacitated for a minute or so, he grabbed a .44 rifle from his belt and fired at the woman three times without hesitation.

“No!” yelled the vigilante.

Jason bolted to the living room before the man could stop him, jumping off the window ledge from where he came even as he blasted a grappling hook on a street lamp across the apartment complex. He heard the approaching footsteps of Batman get further away as he zipped through the air. Once he landed, he sprinted to an alley and took a few random routes to keep the man off his tracks.

Once he made sure nobody was chasing him, he spoke:

“Roy? I just met Batman.”

“You’re shitting me,”

“Yeah, no, I’m not. He tried to stop me from killing Ma’Gann.”

“Are you serious?”

“Jesus, yes, fuck.” Jason realized his hands were shaking and that his breath was coming out shallow. He took off his helmet and breathed out.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He answered while his mind remained preoccupied.

 _Forty-four._ He counted in his head. He was getting closer and closer to fifty and worst thing was, he was doing it all on his own. Nobody was ordering him to. It was his choice and it was a shitty choice anyway. He could have given her over to McCabe for interrogation, but he had panicked.

He didn’t know Batman. He didn’t trust him. He couldn’t leave Ma’Gunn in his hands. Who knows what he would’ve done? Those were all the thoughts that had been bombarding him at the time, but now that he was out of that state of mind, he knew that he was wrong.

He knew exactly what Batman would have done: hand her over to police custody along with the damning evidence.

God, what the hell? Why hadn’t he stayed calm?

In the field, facing enemy in combat, the first thing to remember was self-control. It was the only thing to remember because once the adrenaline surged, fighting came as a reflex to him. Finding ways to outmaneuver the enemy was literally written in his DNA code but staying in governance of himself was where real skill began and ended.

And he had failed to do that.

He thought he had been ready to face the man but it was different from before. Batman made him uneasy for some reason. Something about him; maybe, the expressionless cowl or the body language or the way he was able to predict Jason’s moves. Something about him that he couldn’t pin-point… it was really freaking him out.

**  
  
**

 

Two days later, Jason found himself tossed and forced into a wall with a mouth invading his. Biting the bottom lip and stretching it out, his assailant looked back at him with cool, narrow-eyed scrutiny. Hands gripped tight on the bones outlining his shoulders, biting nails into the hollow beneath, keeping him there.

Something was different about Bruce tonight.

His mind was elsewhere. The way he grabbed his thighs and wrapped them around his waist with a rough touch. The way that no tender or conversational words were shared before they entered the hotel room.

Jason folded his arms around Bruce’s neck, ignoring the warning sign. Slowly, all their clothes came off and they explored each other with hands, eyes shut out. He touched Bruce’s cheeks, feeling the stubble against his fingertips and then, moved them upward.

There was a tenderness alongside his temple. Jason kept a still face as his hands drifted down and touched the side of Bruce’s neck in a cursory manner. Noting the slight difference of texture around the area, he shifted them to knead Bruce’s buttocks.

Their cocks grounded together, undulating hips worked with no pause, eyelids fluttering as heads canted, lips caught, breaths puffing in and out heavily.

He caressed his finger lightly over Bruce’s chest and dropped down and down, palm up against his abs. Bruce tensed as he put pressure against a beige bruise and felt the powdery substance around it.

“Oh sorry, did that tickle?” He couldn't help but ask in a mock-innocent tone.

The shoulders around Bruce’s back bunched for a tense minute, but the other man only had to reel in a breath and they returned back to their forced relaxed posture.

He pursued his lips and shoved Bruce off of him.

Disgust was crawling over his skin. Disgust with himself for letting the deception run for so long. Disgust for letting them have anything close to the illusion that this was…

“I'm not in the mood,” he said, voice gruff and shoulders tightly drawn up and out. Hastily dressing himself with his back to Bruce, he got out of there before Bruce could so much as say a word.

He had been over his head.

He had let Bruce in, unintentionally and unnecessarily close, thinking he could see through him. He had been wrong.

So wrong.

He rested a hand over his forehead, remembering the composure Bruce displayed for the world to see, a self-restraint that Jason had known was indicative of something. Something secret. Something bad.

And yet he still fell.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, stopping and looking back at the hotel he just exited.

Why had Bruce never invited him to his house? Was he simply ashamed or was it caution?

He always thought Bruce never cared if anyone saw him kissing a man. They had kissed many times in plain sight of passersby. Any one of them could have recognized Bruce and taken a picture of them embracing for a magazine to post. Bruce would have known those risks.

No, it wasn’t shame. It was caution, he was sure now.

He whirled around footing to his where his bike was parked and mounted it. Starting the engine, he took one last look at the hotel and scoffing at himself for waiting, he rode out of there.


	5. The Enigma Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this whole plan to make this more fleshed out (with a sex scene and all) but as the wise and great Meredith Grey once said to April Kepner when she had a pregnancy scare: "Plans don't mean anything." So I'm going to do the improv. bit and end it here before it becomes something more hideous.  
> Oh and thanks for all of your comments!

"What are you doing up so late?”

Jason started and looked at Kori, who was leaning sideways into the doorway frame with her arms crossed. She wore a silk nightgown that reached the tips of her feet and her long and voluminous hair were combed to the side.

“I just..” Jason trailed off as his eyes wavered and sank to study his laptop screen for a moment in silence. There was a strange spider web pattern tainting the skin between his eyebrows as he looked at whatever was on that screen. Kori didn't like it.

“Jason,” she began, pushing off the doorframe.

“I'm looking,” Jason said hastily, his eyebrows flapping as he looked here and there. It wasn't a good sign that he couldn't even make a decent attempt at hiding his distress. “At the file on the Hamilton mission detail.”

Now, Kori was confused. She thought it was something different.

“And?” She closed the inches from his bedroom door to his bed and sat next to him, her eyes catching onto the screen as she made herself comfortable. Her eyebrows furrowed at the picture on the screen.

She turned to him, questioning. “Why are you looking at an article on Bruce Wayne? Is he related to Hamilton somehow?”

“No,” Jason denied immediately, releasing a long, worrisome exhale when she continued to eye him with skepticism. “I don't think so. I've just got a theory. It's nothing, probably. You should go to sleep.”

He looked away from her, concentrating on the screen as if that was the end of their conversation. She knew this was Jason closing off on her. Roy had warned her that once Jason decided he didn't want to tell you anything, he wouldn't.

But Kori was stubborn so she forged on ahead.

“Jason, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Jason was opening a tab, typing in a few terms she couldn't understand on the search engine.

“Last week,” she let out caustically. “You returned from somewhere with this look in your eye--”

“--Kori, not this again--”

“--it was a look that scared me, Jason.” She resumed firmly, not letting him evade this anymore. Jason eyed her, surprised. “It was the calm look you get before you go and assassinate someone. And to have it in our home--”

“Kori,” Jason’s pleading tone stopped her. She was alarmed to see the absolutely heart-wrenching look on his face. “You know I wouldn't.”

“I wasn't scared for me or for Roy.” She detracted, indignant that he would think that. “I was scared about you.” She pointed out, frowning. “You were in another place. That's what you do, Jason. You vanish before our eyes--” she raked a hand through her hair as she sat back. “--when you do those missions. It worries me but it's the mission so I try to forget about it but not when you're here. I can't bear to think that you would--" she swallowed back the lump in her throat. "That you would vanish here."

Jason stared at her with remorse, his chin drooping and the mass between his eyebrows slightly crinkled.

"It was nothing, Kori.” He assured, patting her arm. “I promise. I'm okay."

He almost sounded convincing about it too. She averted her eyes, feeling like she had failed here. With a numb detachment, she extricated herself from his bed, and agreed with a nod.

“Just come to me when you need to talk.” She made herself say with forced cheeriness. “I'm there for you. So is Roy though he's sleeping like a horse right now.”

“Right, yeah.” He bobbed his head, avoiding her imploring eyes.

She turned to leave and paused.

“And Jason,” Her tone went serious.

“Hmm?”

“Be careful.”

A ghostly smile spread over his lips.

“When am I ever not?”

_ Never.  _ She thought in her heart, saddened by the implications and left before she could try more at getting him out of that shell of his.

  
  


Once Kori shut the door behind her and her footsteps faded quite a distance away, Jason erased what he had been typing. Instead, he typed: “Bruce Wayne England visit 2011.”

After a perfunctory skim over one article, he found what he was looking for. Bruce Wayne was at Langham hotel the night of their mission. He wasn't surprised by this. That was one clue that needed no confirmation for him. The mannerisms of that masked man, Batman and Bruce resembled too much for it to be a coincidence.

Next, he went to his agency’s surveillance site and typed “Bruce Wayne” once again.

He blinked at the data provided and wondered whether he was seeing things.

_ Bruce Wayne. _

_ Head of Financial Department. _

_ Oversees information regarding impropriety of wealth earned extracted from corporations in the field by agency’s operatives. _

_ Provides funds for weaponry and other technological equipment used in the field. _

_ Assigned position on 2015, August. _

He read the last part again. August? That's when he met Bruce for the first time.

“Shit,” he swore, staring at the screen in stunned silence. He finally understood why he'd been in that club in the first place. Once he understood, a litany of curses spewed out of his mouth one after another. “Fuck, shit, fuck. I'm going to kill that bitch.”

He was so pissed. Why didn't McCabe tell him that Wayne was working in the agency too? Did she want him to kill Bruce or something? People like Jason were liable to shoot first, ask questions later. If he hadn't had such good control of his anxiety that night, he might have offed Bruce in the back-alley for being so suspicious.

But then again, he looked at his wrists that still hurt when he moved them at a specific angle and sighed. Bruce was more than capable of fighting him off.

He slouched back on the headboard, arms crossing behind him to cushion his head.

Did she know?

She was a liar. Even things within accessible reach of any agent, she didn't inform of. Even when she gave assassination missions to him, she kept the details minimal. It always bothered him.

He would tell Roy to check on the info himself because he couldn't trust the catty look on her face and only when it was confirmed that the target deserved their fate, he took up the assignment.

Without Roy’s helpful hacking skills, he wouldn't even have known that much of the Hitman assignments were technically illegal for the agency to be doing. The state had only given Outlaw agency the right to interrogate, subterfuge, counterfeit so that they could critically examine and inspect in secret the inner elements of suspected companies.

He didn't have the right to kill because he wasn't militia. He was just a crook who was good at his job and had the right amount of righteous fury to ignore the rules and do what needed to be done.

What needs to be done. That was something McCabe repeatedly uttered, especially when she offered him the job. Jason had agreed with her then. That's why he ignored the technicalities in the first place. That's why he was willing to ignore her secretive nature.

He wasn't so sure now.

  
  


Bruce hadn't texted or called since that night. It was like he knew why Jason left. Jason wouldn't be surprised. Bruce was sharp and it wasn't like Jason had been subtle. Bruce surely knew why exactly he had left so abruptly. He surely knew that their fragile deception was one that had come to an end.

So what else was there to recuperate?

Nothing. It was all broken pieces scattered on the floor. There was no salvaging this, was there?

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying this,” murmured the man in his ear, awakening him out of his accidental stupor. “Am I doing something wrong?”

He remembered what kind-of situation he was in then.

Jason looked up into the grey-haired man’s green eyes and smiled. “How could that be?” He cupped the man’s velvety cheeks, pressing closer. “When I want you this much already.” He guided the man’s hand to his groin and grinded against him a little.

“Hmm,” mused the perverted old man with a devious grin. “That does feel like you want me.”

Pasting a wide smile on his face, Jason leaned close to the target’s face and captured his lips, making a few noises as they kissed.

When was this whole thing going to end anyway? He thought to himself, rolling his eyes inwardly as the man clutched him tighter to him. Their bodies smashed together and those slimy little lips accessed his tongue and he let him even as he tried to keep his erection alive.

When were Roy and Kori going to get done with their infiltration already?

He hated this kind-of mission the most, but once the agency figured out that Jack Aldrich paid rent-boys hefty amount to service him on the weekends, how could they resist not giving the distraction job to Jason?

Jason, who was known around the Outlaw agency as a loose bisexual fuckboy. It was true that Jason went out to get some every once in awhile but that didn’t mean he wasn’t picky about his partners. Aldrich was exactly the kind-of moronic pervert he didn’t want to deal with.

“If push comes to shove and your partners aren’t done by that time, just take it.” McCabe had suggested, offhand and slightly joking, he was pretty sure. “I’m sure it won’t be anything off your back.”

Roy had opened his mouth to refute that completely disgusting statement, Jason guessed, but he stopped him from bursting out his disagreements at that moment.

“I have complete faith that Roy and Kori will do the mission before it comes to that.” He had announced, making Roy shut his mouth and straighten his shoulders as if resolving himself to cover for Jason even if it cost him his own life.

Roy was pretty easy to rile up, actually and Jason wasn’t lying. He had complete faith in them.

It had only been thirty minutes since he had entered the hotel room, anyway. That was nothing compared to the kind-of acrobatic shit Kori was up to. Nothing compared to Roy combatting security system of Aldrich Corp. by typing codes after codes.

It was just, he wasn’t very good at disguises or acting anyway. It was just, he was already having a hard time not zoning out on the man. And it didn’t help that their venue was reminding him of Bruce every step of the way. When he closed his eyes when Aldrich forced his tongue in Jason’s mouth, he couldn’t help comparing it to Bruce’s way of entering. When he smelled the thick cologne perfusing from the old man, he thought of Bruce’s own clean, fresh smell that soothed and pleased his senses.

It was bad.

He really had it bad for Bruce, didn’t he?

It was painful to realize that when another man was attempting to get into his pants. That was the worst of it. Fact was, he had a sleeping pill he could give the old man mixed with his wine just in case. Still, he didn’t want Aldrich to get suspicious about the pretty boy he was fucking. That would compromise his identity since he wasn’t wearing much of a disguise anyway.

More disguise just meant complications, sometimes. It meant that you couldn’t have skin-to-skin contact or hands anywhere near the hair because those things became noticeable once you touched or looked closely enough. The prototype mask too. It could be taken off if you pressed at one spot on the temple.

Right now, Jason just had his hair dyed red and some make up worn to make him look the part of a gay man. It was nothing special.

Aldrich awoke him out of his dazed state once again when he grabbed Jason’s ass and gripped real hard. Jason winced and hid it by squeezing his face close to Aldrich’s chest.

“Why don’t we get you out of those tight jeans, huh?” insisted the target with that smug grin of his. Jason held back a grimace. He wanted to punch the man in his face.

“Mhmm,” He nodded. Taking his clothes off wasn’t a big deal. What came after kind-of was. He shrugged the thought of after and instead, pulled away from the man and turned around, hands going to the buttons of his jeans. “You just sit there and watch.”

Stripping slowly could give Roy and Kori plenty of time. He had enough knowledge of the mechanics after watching Kori do it many times in one of her infiltration missions. He wiggled his hips, fiddling with the buttons as he shifted his feet side to side. Once he unbuttoned the jeans, he grabbed them by the waistband and bent over.

Just then, a banging noise came from the door. Jason stopped.

“Oh, for christ’s sake, who the fuck is it?” demanded Aldrich, standing up and going over to the suite door.

Jason buttoned his jeans back on, a little baffled about the interruption but relieved nonetheless. He was looking down at the ground, wondering how long until their charade would resume as Aldrich opened the door when--

“Huh, who the--”

_ THUD. _

Jason’s head jolted up, his body going tense as his eyes sought the reason for that loud noise. He found Aldrich’s body lying quite a feet away from the door, lying on broken furniture and spun his head to the door to find Batman himself standing in the doorway.

“What?” He said to himself, confused beyond reason.

Why?

Batman’s white gaze that was on Aldrich with an underlying anger switched to Jason’s. The look on his half-covered face jarred him, locking up his limbs until he was frozen and anchorless, staring back at Batman with a lost expression.

Batman stalked toward him, his eyes steady yet dark with some unknown emotion.

“Bru--” He blurted out automatically, but was cut off when he was yanked by his wrist and dragged to go along with Batman at an urgent pace out of the suite and into the hotel hallway. “What are you--” He questioned, looking around the empty hallway as he was towed around by Batman’s zealously tight grip on his wrist.

“Hey!” He called out and was shoved through the stairway door as it was pulled open, slammed into thin air with his feet unsteadily catching up to the rapid change. He stopped and his eyes reared up to watch the costumed vigilante with bitter resentment leaking into him.

“What the fuck!” He yelled, charging close to Batman who closed the stairway door behind him. He barged into the vigilante’s personal space and pushed with all the wrath that existed underneath. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

He lifted his arms again to shove him again when Batman grasped his hands and discontinued his little outburst.

“I was waiting for you.” said the husky, deep voice of Batman that struck a blow well below the chest, staggering him with how unfamiliar it sounded. Hardly recognizable at all. Jason could feel some part of him break a little.

“What are you talking about?” Jason feigned ignorance. The cowardly way, he knew, but he didn’t feel prepared for this confrontation at all.

“I was waiting for you to come talk to me,” repeated Bru-- Batman, making Jason direct his gaze upward into that unfeeling white gaze. “Jason.”

So it was time to come clean, huh?

Jason hooked a hand over his neck, finding every bit of this moment unnerving. “Waiting? Why?” He inquired, looking away. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“That’s hurtful.” He noted the sad smile lurking on Batman’s lips and resisted the urge to sigh. What was he doing here?

“Didn’t I tell you before?” Batman’s gravelly voice trickled with earnestness. “This is more than sex to me. It has always been.”

Jason frowned, eyes hesitantly lifting up to meet Bruce’s covered ones. “No wonder you’re good at acting. How many parts do you play everyday?”

“Jason,”

“Stop calling my name. I’m on a mission.” Jason crossed his arms. “Or was until you knocked out my target.”

Bruce stiffened, something in his demeanor hardening up. “I would apologize about ruining your mission but I’m not sorry.”

“Yeah, why would you? It’s not like it has anything to do with you.” Jason sneered, quirking his eyebrows.

“Your partners, Roy and Kori,” Bruce began and every hair on Jason’s skin stood on attention. “They wouldn’t be done in less than an hour. McCabe knew about that.”

“So she knew I was gonna have to--” trailed off Jason.

“Yes,”

Everything about this was so fucked up. Jason was disgusted at himself for not having seen through it.

“I could have extended it at least thirty minutes, tops.” bargained Jason casually.

“The Aldrich Corp. firewalls would have taken a lot longer, trust me. I’ve tried it.”

An idea hit Jason just then and it made him chuckle. “So you dressed up in that suit of yours to protect my non-existent chastity or something?”

“That wasn’t what I planned to do, in the beginning.” Bruce explained, his cowl-covered face looking a little contrite for some reason. Jason studied him closely. “I planned to leave it to you. You were confident enough and it didn’t seem like my place to intrude. I only had a bug fixed on the suite, just in case you needed help.”

“Let me guess,” Jason snorted. “You couldn’t hold back once I started stripping?”

He saw Bruce gulp back his trepidation and admit, “Yes, I couldn’t hold back.”

He hadn’t expected Bruce to acknowledge that, but then again, it was always Bruce who took the initiative. Endeared beyond belief to this brave and foolhardy man, Jason laughed and crossed the small space between them. He held Bruce’s face in his hands, gazing fondly into those white lenses.

“You’re unbelievable.” He stated, a wide and warm smile leaking out of the place he coveted all his life.

“I love you,” Bruce said out of the blue, startling Jason, who blinked dubiously at the other man. Bruce’s hand came up and threaded itself together with Jason’s on his face. “I know it’s sudden and scary, but I love you, Jason.”

“That’s--” Panic was starting up, once again urgently pumping through his nerves, making him want to pull away. His fingers began to slip away when Bruce's hand tightened onto his hands.

“Don’t run, Jason.”  Bruce's grasp hurt, it was so firm. "Please."

Jason scowled, disgruntled and out of his element. “You’re too damn earnest.”

“You don’t have to look so displeased about it. I’m pretty sure you like that about me.”

Jason averted his gaze, holding back a smile from curling his lips. 

“You’re not getting anything out of me today, I’ll let you know.” He proclaimed, a little pout on his lips as he redirected his eyes back to Bruce’s. “Get yourself out of that suit and maybe then, we’ll talk.”

Batman’s lips stretched and lingered close to Jason’s lips.

“Your wish,” He whispered, his scent flowing into Jason’s, refreshing his senses. Jason swallowed and pulled closer.

“But first, disinfect that awful taste from my mouth.” Jason muttered and feeling the impression of a grin, he found himself closing his eyes as his lips were devoured and taken. One hand sunk into his hair, his neck jerked back, and his waist was circled with another arm.

They stayed in that stairway, kissing for a long time, saliva dribbling out of their mouths and lips puffing red by the end of it. Only when Roy and Kori’s paged him that they had gotten the flash-drive with all the data into Aldrich Corps, they pulled away.

“Come to the Wayne manor.” Bruce requested. “We’ll… talk more then.”

Hearing the double entendre for what it was, Jason smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

They separated there, with Jason climbing down the staircase while Bruce climbed up the stairs. They didn’t look back once. Jason knew he would see Bruce again. It was a promise.

Now the only thing left to do was...

  
  
  


“I'm quitting.”

Two people in McCabe’s office froze and spun their heads in Jason’s direction with incredulous looks.

“Jason?” Kori questioned, flabbergasted.

“What the hell, man?” Roy sputtered.

McCabe sat behind her desk, looking perfectly composed in face of such shocking news and only raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Jason smiled, tilting his head. “To be honest, a lot of things have been bothering me about you for awhile now but last night really was the last straw.”

“That's all well and good, but you have signed a contract.”

“Yeah, about that.” Jason gave a smug toothy grin, tossing his head. “I stole into your shiny little vault last night and erased my papers and data files from Outlaw history forever.” He gave a vindictive look over to McCabe as he announced: “So, well, I'm free.”

“So if you think you were a prisoner of mine,” McCabe started slowly, surely trying to salvage a completely destructible position. “Don't you think you're leaving your friends in a dangerous situation?”

She thought she had him, thought Jason as he eyed her perfectly confident face.

He smirked, shrugged one shoulder as he informed her: “Yeah, I burned their files too.”

“Jason!” Roy cried out, looking completely dumbstruck for maybe, the first time.

“I think you guys should come with me,” Jason advised them, keeping his face earnest and serious instead of the smugness that was practically leaking off of him. “We don't need a manipulative douchebag watching our every move and controlling how we think or what we do.”

“Damn, son,” Roy whistled, looking impressed. “That's awesome.”

“Roy,” admonished Kori, her eyes whipping to Jason’s in a moment of reproach. “Jason, we earn our lifestyles wages from working for the company.”

“Well, you can stay with her if you like,” Jason offered, gesturing cheekily at McCabe’s dull, self-possessed face that was still trying to hide the shock and panic she was most likely feeling right about now. “But I'm out.”

“You know I'm not gonna do that,” Kori confessed and looked extremely put-out. “Damn you, I'm gonna have to work as a waitress again, aren't I?”

“Hey, look at the bright side.” Roy chimed in brightly.

“And what is that?” Kori asked, her delicate arms folding.

“Jason loves us,” imparted Roy with his hands going up in a ‘ta-da’ fashion like he was a magician displaying a magic trick. “Why else would he go to such lengths to protect us from any legally binding contracts?”

Kori glanced over at Jason and a beautiful smile spread over her amber lips.

“You're right.”

Jason rolled his eyes. They were exaggerating, honestly.

  
  


“So why the sudden change of mind?” asked Roy as they ambled through the streets of Gotham after giving their official resignation to the agency.

“Just… felt like it was time.” Jason said, looking into the afternoon sky. His phone buzzed just then and he hid a smile as he took it out of his pocket.

“Who’s that?” interrogated Kori, looking curiously at his phone.

“Someone,” He replied vaguely, surveying the text with warm, glowing eyes. Kori side-eyed Roy, who gave a conspiratorial look behind Jason’s back and beamed.

She rolled her eyes outward and commented, “I see.”

So Jason did find someone.

_ Hold onto them, Jason, whoever they _ are. She looked at Roy out of the corner of her eye. _ Because they're always worth it.  _


End file.
